Othello: The Tale of Two Schools
by 21xJoKeRx13
Summary: AU/MultiPairings/NEW TITLE: Ichigo Kurosaki has started High School in Karakura town. However, after the county joins with its rival, Hueco Mundo, the two high schools are combined. Ichigo can't help but be intrigued by some of the unruly students…
1. Chapter 1: State of Affairs

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Tite Kubo does!**

**Title: **My Hovercraft is full of Eels (subject to change)

**Summary: **Ichigo Kurosaki has started High School in Karakura town. However, after the county joins with its rival, Hueco Mundo, the two high schools are combined. Ichigo can't help but be intrigued by some of the unruly students… and it's completely mutual.** Lots of pairings!**

**Warnings: **AU, Language, maybe OOC and Boy x Boy awesomeness.

**Rated T for now, will become M when necessary**

**Note: **In my school district, 10th grade is the start of high school. That is what will be used, just so I am familiar with the Sophomore-Junior-Senior relationships. No freshman.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter One<strong>_

_**Status Quo**_

Ichigo Kurosaki: sixteen, strawberry blond, and 5"9. In all sense of the word, he was a pretty normal, pubescent teenager. The only thing separating him from other students was their stupid remarks on breaking the school's rules on hair dye, which resulted in several pleading calls to the school from Isshin to swear that it was his natural color.

Middle school never ceased to irk the average boy. Other, quicker growing males would tease him for being a girl with a bad attitude. Kurosaki could handle himself, but hated that school by his father's apartment until the day had finally come: tenth grade. The day he could leave those losers at the north region of Karakura, while he and his family moved the clinic south. Isshin was always excited, as long as he got all of his wife's memorabilia out of their small home. Yuzu and Karin, Ichigo's sisters, would mourn in their own ways of losing the home they were born in, as would their older brother.

Once they had moved into their new, decently sized home for their clinic, Ichigo was set up to go to the joint high school. Karakura town was at the border of two counties, and due to the common disputes of borders and the difference in school supplies, Hueco Mundo relinquished its high school to join with Karakura and save costs, giving the money from their building to their school district. All Karakura had to do was tolerate its mass of new students.

Still, from what Kurosaki had heard, the Las Noches School in Hueco was a small delinquency institution full of vandals and criminals. He would never understand why Karakura, the top school in the region, would accept such character in its expanded halls. Karakura High only added 3 rooms for the new students, one for each grade level. The school was already full by the time the joining occurred, making the construction necessary in the summer months.

There was one thing that the Karakura principal had created: uniforms. As used to them Kurosaki had been, he was not thrilled with having to wear a black, long sleeved jacket every day. The Las Noches students were required to wear white, which to Ichigo seemed more like the Holocaust than a school's show of acceptance.

Nonetheless, Kurosaki would hope to enjoy his sophomore year. The one person from his middle school that didn't detest him, a certain Abarai Renji, was transferring to the new school. He preferred danger, and Kurosaki wondered what he was expecting to actually occur during school instead of learning. Another person he favored was Kuchiki Rukia, but she was only a freshman, and had not passed her exams to elevate her grade level. Even with her family's wealth, they were of too much nobility to press the matter, no matter how much Rukia pleaded with her brother. The older Kuchiki, who Ichigo had only met and detested once, was actually a professor at the school for a sophomore English class.

Isshin had taken the liberty to drive Ichigo to his first day of high school, sobbing about how his little angel had grown up. Ichigo would have had a right mind to punch his old man, but thought that was unwise in a moving vehicle. He watched out the window, still thinking about how the students would react to having a few delinquents in their academic midst. He hoped well. Over the horizon he saw the large Karakura High clock-tower, the rest of the school building revolving around that pillar. It served like a Times Square for the school, where kids could eat lunch or meet up at any time they had free period.

Upon pulling up to the gates, Isshin demanded a hug and goodbye kiss. That time he got punched— the car was in park after all. Ichigo got out of his seat, walking onto the cement and past the beams holding up a large welcoming sign:

_**Karakura-Hueco High School**_

_Ars longa, vita brevis_

Ichigo walked past, being thrown into the main courtyard of the estate. It was plain, sidewalks leading to different entrances that lead to different home base rooms. Ichigo was in room B-1, and therefore found the B entrance just a little northwest of where he walked in. Inside, it was elegant but simple at the same time. The halls were a grey color, the doors wooden, and lots of windows lined the sides, never making it too dark. If there was a hallway with no windows, the walls were white with black trim instead. In general, the school was pretty basic, but took pride in looking cleanly.

That was when a couple guys down the hallway started to beat the shit out of each other.

The larger of the two pinned his opponent to the wall, up against a window. The small, black haired male grunted, swinging a punch at his attacker to fend him off. The larger didn't seem phased, punching him in the stomach repeatedly. A very tall, black haired boy in white was watching on the other end of the hallway, having a toothy grin plastered on his face. Ichigo already hated that face, and all these guys in white.

He walked forwards, grabbing the larger of the Hueco's shoulder and flung him back into the opposite wall. He hadn't expected that, staggering back and glared at the strawberry sophomore.

"What the fuck, ya lil shit?" He roared, his teal eyes glaring holes through Ichigo. He almost shivered, but just clenched a fist.

"Why don't you find a puppy to kick instead of picking on another guy, huh?" He hissed, looking over his new enemy's form. He was well built, muscular, but not too much so. The sleeves of his white uniform were already frayed and torn at the ends, and his spiky blue hair was sure to attract more attention than Ichigo's ever would. The smaller built, lean man stood up straight, and then adjusted his uniform to be just as pristine. His emerald eyes looked up at Ichigo from behind his long, black bangs, seeming to give some silent thanks before just walking past the tall boy, making his frown practically turn upside-down in absurdity.

"C'mon Ulquiorra, quit being sucha tightass!" The tall freak started to saunter after Ulquiorra, snickering to himself and leaving the bluenet boy where he was.

The blue haired student glared at Ichigo for a few more moments before he stood, walking after his tall companion. "He can't help that he's a priss, lil shit." He responded to him as he started to catch up.

Ichigo frowned as Ulquiorra walked off without a word of thanks to him, but was distracted by the glare the blue haired Hueco had sent him. Shaking his head, he walked down the adjacent hallway to his home base class.

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><p>Sitting in a free desk, Ichigo watched his other classmates file in. There were more sophomores he didn't know that came from middle schools closer to this region, but was slightly relieved to find a familiar, tattooed face. "Hey Renji!" Ichigo smirked as the flaming red-head looked over, and threw the same look back.<p>

"Yo strawberry, talk about luck."

"Don't call me strawberry, your hair is redder than mine!" Ichigo clicked his pen as Renji took the seat next to him.

"Yeah right; so, this place is kinda boring so far. I expected somethin' more like _The Outsiders_."

"You call this boring? I stopped a fight before getting in here." Ichigo replied calmly, making Renji's eyes widen.

"A fight? Who, where, when?" Ichigo laughed at his friend getting excited over something like a hallway brawl.

"Just a few of those Hueco kids beating up a smaller guy, there was a tall dude and then a blue haired punk."

"Huh, seems there's some freaky thing about all those Hueco guys. Haven't seen any chicks in white yet…or did you find one?" He grinned, nudging Ichigo in the side.

"Oh haha, I'm sure you'd be the one to find a giant pair before me." Ichigo retorted, nudging him back. Renji hesitated before nodding, and adding a cheesy smirk.

"Hells yeah." Renji looked forward as the bell for class to begin rang. A tall man with black, curly and unruly hair stepped into the front. He didn't wear a tie, leaving the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, and his suit was kept oddly straight. He took off his dark colored glasses, showing black eyes on his unshaven face.

"Morning class, This'll be your home base for the rest of your sophomore year. I'm Mr. Zangetsu, or if you must, just Tensa or Zangetsu. When I call yer name say here or not. Abarai Renji."

"Here." Renji said, raising an eyebrow to Ichigo. The strawberry just shook his head, knowing that his teacher seemed a little out of the ordinary, but he wasn't about to judge a guy in black. A few more students replied, including a very loud "P-present!" From an Inoue girl he had a faint memory of seeing once in middle school.

"Jiruga Nnoitra."

"Here." Ichigo jumped a little as he looked to the back of the class. Sure enough, the sickeningly disturbing grin on the tall Hueco's face flashed back at him. Ichigo's eyes narrowed a little as Jiruga snickered under his breath to another blond boy in white next to him. Ichigo never thought that he'd be a sophomore…well, unless he was held back. That thought wouldn't have surprised him.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Here…" Ichigo frowned but sat facing forwards again. Renji on the other hand was looking from the back of the room to his friend.

"Who's that, Ichi?" He couldn't resist a grin when Ichigo glared at him for the nickname.

"That's the tall Hueco I told you about."

"Oh, hell I didn't think you meant that tall." Renji looked back again, stopping halfway while Ichigo slapped him on the shoulder.

"Didn't your mom tell you it's rude to stare?"

"Hey, you were checking him out before I was!" Renji snickered and earned a punch in the arm. Ichigo heard someone clear their throat, and looked forward to be completely eyelevel with the chest of his home base teacher. He looked back up, finally meeting eyes with him.

"Sorry, sir."

"I'd appreciate if you were not checking out your fellow classmates while I'm doing attendance, Kurosaki." A sharp snicker came from the back of the room, and Ichigo didn't need to turn around to know who produced it. His cheeks heated a little but he nodded, and Zangetsu went back to the front of the room.

"Lindocruz Tesla." The teacher just continued before even making it back to his desk. The blond Hueco boy next to Jiruga responded more quiet but just as nervous as Inoue had. Ichigo tried to sustain his blush by occupying himself with the writing on his pen. _Seireitei bank, you can trust us! 222-SOUL. _Ichigo didn't even remember taking a pen from the bank, but his father was notorious for pen-thievery.

A few names later, Zangetsu had finished marking his list and looked at the clock on the wall. "Ya got ten minutes to figure out where your next class is." He then proceeded to sit at his desk and type on his laptop. Renji grinned and unfolded a sheet of paper that had obviously been shoved in his pocket without any care.

"Ichi, classes, now!" He nudged his friend, who jumped slightly out of his forced distraction.

"Right," he dug in his messenger bag and pulled out his schedule, setting it on the table next to Renji's. "We got Kuchiki's English class together." He said after inspection.

"Yeah, the one we can't fuck around in."

"I'd rather not fuck around with my fellow classmates, Abarai." Ichigo said solemnly, causing Renji to laugh and slap Ichigo in the back.

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><p>The bell for first period rang ten minutes later. Renji waved to Ichigo and headed down the west hallway, as Ichigo headed east. On his way towards first period, Health, he looked up in time to meet eyes with fierce teal ones. His own copper eyes narrowed at the bluenet that was practically stabbing him with said fierce look. Jiruga appeared at his side and elbowed the blue haired one.<p>

"Neh, Grimmjow, lemme introduce ya to Strawberry Kurosaki, biggest fag in B-1." His grin grew more vicious, just craving to see Ichigo seethe. He was only mildly disappointed, as Ichigo snapped a glare at him, but did nothing more. Grimmjow got a feral smirk too, sending shivers down Ichigo's spine.

"Heh, aren't sophomores all fags, Jiruga? You bein' one twice is explanation enough fer that."

"_Ah, so the tall freak was held back." _Ichigo thought to himself.

"Shut up or I'll knock ya out!" Nnoitra was just starting to pick a fight now. Ichigo shook his head and went to walk around the two.

"Nice to meet you both."

"Later, Berry-chan." Grimmjow grinned and started to snicker as Ichigo shot him another glare, but figured that fighting in a hallway against a junior would be even worse than his name meaning being misunderstood.

Ichigo let out a breath he'd been holding. The bluenet's smirk that made him shiver…he hadn't experienced something like that before. As awkward as it seemed, it was a _good _kind of shiver, and made him a bit more curious about the blue-haired punk. He'd even defended him…a little.

"Oi Berry, think we got our first class together, neh?" Ichigo let out another sigh, looking up out of the corner of his eye to see Nnoitra practically leering back down.

"You and 28 others, Jiruga."

"Eh, Health is a boring-as-fuck class anyways."

Wait, how did Jiruga know his first period? Or better yet, why the hell was he talking to him?

"I bet you'd know if you've taken it twice already, right?" Ichigo got a small grin as Nnoitra's disappeared.

"At least back at Las Noches it was, and don't start thinkin' yer any better than me, ya' little shit."

"Wouldn't dream of it…" He muttered, thinking just the opposite.

Ichigo ignored any other conversation Jiruga tried to force him into, just walking into his health classroom, stifling a laugh as Nnoitra almost hit his head on the low doorway. A lanky man with long white hair stood at the front of the class. He too was in a black suit, but had more white accents than Zangetsu. Ichigo also noticed about 5 stacks of Kleenix boxes on the teacher's desk, as well as a good supply in his pocket.

He took a seat in the last row, next to a window. To his disappointment, Nnoitra sat behind him. He would have tolerated him sitting to his side, like Renji had, but having an uncomfortable stranger behind him just made it more uncomfortable. Oh, and he _had_ to prop his feet up on the back of his desk and shove him forwards. Damn long-legged people.

Ichigo glared at him as he was shoved a good foot and a half from the Hueco behind him. Nnoitra leaned back in his desk, crossing his arms and waved with that undressing look he constantly wore on his snake-like face. Ichigo looked forwards again, doing his best to ignore the eyes on the back of his head trying to make him uneasy. He had to admit, Nnoitra may suck at school, but he was a professional creeper. Students filed in for the next couple minutes, none being any familiar faces. Ichigo convinced himself that was normal, since he'd just moved to this region. Most other people he recognized would have went to the other high school on the north side. The bell rang, silencing his thoughts as the teacher coughed into one of his tissues.

"Good morning class, I'm Mr. Ukitake, and I'll be trying to teach you something about Health this semester." The white haired man started, having a calm smile on his face even with his sickly demeanor. He went through attendance quickly, and Ichigo still hadn't even recognized a name other than the person's that was kicking his seat. Ukitake wasted no time beginning a lesson, but stated that they didn't need to take notes. Ichigo sat, not bored, but more so distracted. He looked out the window at cloudy skies and tanning grass as Autumn set in, then the classroom. For every student in black, there was one in white; both were dotted all around the classroom. Ichigo had the mild urge to play a game of Othello, and not read the play of it. He did notice that there wasn't a complete barrier. Most of the white wearing students were sitting on the right side of the room, while the others were on the left. There was only one thing that broke that combo—Ichigo, sitting on the right side.

His thoughts left him again with another kick under his seat, which was Nnoitra attempting to move. He then swore obscenities under his breath as he tangled his clown shoes up in the barred baskets that were meant hold textbooks. Served the bastard right.

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><p><strong>AN: **

**Since a lack of reading fanfiction struck me, I've been reading the Bleach fanfics I had forgotten about, and more.**

**So, Now I wanna write another Bleach one, since I've gotten NO feedback on my GinxHitsu story after coming out of a long hiatus, and then wanting to rewrite it.**

**However, I refuse to read or watch any more Bleach. I put it on strike for myself after some serious BS. B.S. TITE. LISTEN. **

**SO. All Bleach fics I write will be BEFORE Aizen attacks Karakura town, and before Yammy's whole B.S.**

**I can live with Szayel dying Q_Q doesn't mean any of my fics will end that way. F*ckin Mayuri godmoder…**

**By the way, about the title…I was looking up Latin phrases I could use as a title, but decided that Spanish would be more fitting, and use Latin for chapters. While searching popular Spanish phrases and translations, I got: Welcome, where is the bathroom?, do you speak Spanish?, stop!, and my hovercraft is full of eels.**

**I could not resist.**

**Also, just as I was writing this up…I happened to think about the uniforms being black and white mixing in the class rooms…I thought of that game 'Othello'…would that be a good title or what?**

**Not nearly as amusing, and there's also a Shakespeare thing called Othello too…**

**ANYWAYS…This fic will include several pairings all tied into one at the end.**

**Ones I'm planning on having:**

**Grimmjow x Ichigo (Main)**

**Gin x Hitsugaya (hint of Aizen x Gin)**

**Szayel x Ishida**

**MAYBE Byakuya x Renji (I've never written as these two…well)**

**And Nnoitra being a horndog to everyone.**

**Any other pairing suggestions? Pretty much every character will be in here.**

**If you say Ulquiorra x Orihime I'll kill you! (jk…but really it ain't happening if I can't puke all over this document)**

**! Please R&R !**


	2. Chapter 2: Second Self

**Discaimer: I do not own Bleach, it belongs to Tite Kubo**

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone that has commented with some pairing ideas~ I sort of thought of one I'd love to try with Ulquiorra that wasn't in the comments, and lulzy. I apologize about the long wait this has been, I've just been stressed with schools and now that I'm graduating in two days…..and going on vacation….and driving home*screams* oh gods…!

Needless to say, I've been stressing out about getting some contest entries in and putting up chapters for you guys, as well as keeping my own sanity~

I'm thinking of putting Vizard into this, but I'm not sure where they'd fit just because of their ages…Shinji can be in school, but he could be a teacher. Hayori is too young, and the others are too old…Meehh…

I got a few more teachers picked out though, if you got any characters haven't introduced (and are commonly left out. Captains obviously wouldn't be left out unless I choose not to use them) that you'd like in here, comment =O

I'll also ask if anyone likes the title o.o I have not read the play Othello, and only think of the game. Is hovercraft good enough? XP

BTW: The important Vice captains will be in here. Unimportant ones are the ones I can't remember names of XP

Fraccion and Numeros will also appear (obviously).

Warnings: Swearing mostly.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Two<strong>_

_**Alter Ego**_

Ishida Uryuu, honor student and top classman for three years running, entered his next period classroom. He adjusted his glasses, covering his deep navy eyes that seemed as cold as the sea. He would be able to handle the new additions to the high school, considering he was an addition too. He was an average sized sophomore with dark hair and thin physique, and kept his jacket collar up to conceal more of his pale skin.

Consequently, this course was one of his favorite courses: Chemistry. Ishida always had a love of sciences and mathematics for whatever reason; he'd never fall asleep in them (like a few people were doing when he walked in). He loved it so much he was taking a senior Chemistry class, as well as an AP Trigonometry class later in the day. Surprisingly, most of the students were wearing white. Ishida and a couple others in the back of the room were in black, a tattooed boy with black hair and a bald boy, but they didn't seem to be happy to be in the class at all.

He took one of the only seats available—the one directly in front of the podium. A man in white next to him was twirling a pen in one hand, looking up at the board behind white frames. Ishida was only distracted for a few seconds by the twirling pen, and then more so at the student himself. He looked more like a college student than a high schooler, even for a senior. And that hair—it looked like he fell in a vat of bubblegum! Of course, Ishida was against gossiping or thinking poorly of others based on looks but Jesus, how could you miss that? He was starting to think that there were no hair dye penalties in the former Las Noches.

He only realized he was staring when pale fingers snapped in his face. Ishida jumped, leaning back and blinking rapidly as the bubblegum boy narrowed his honey colored eyes, raising an eyebrow.

"Likin' what you're seeing or something?" It took a couple seconds for Ishida to even comprehend his words and his cheeks turned the same color as the other's hair. He glared.

"Absolutely not, I was…reading that poster." He glanced behind the man. Of course, the poster _had_ to be one with as few words as possible and a kitten hanging off a tree branch. _Hang in there!_

The bubblegum-haired guy snickered, sitting back into his own desk casually, but proper at the same time. Ishida didn't even realize how that'd be possible, but he sure pulled it off.

"How did a sophomore such as yourself manage to get themselves into a senior class, or did you stare into space and signed up for the wrong grade?" His grin grew wider and severe. Ishida's eyes narrowed more, hiding the navy color further.

"I did not; I'm taking this class because I've completed my last two years already."

"Ah, surprising. Wish I was such an overachiever…but I'd rather tower above my peers in grade standings rather than become equal with others."

"Whatever you prefer." Ishida looked back to his notebook he'd withdrawn while the other man was examining his situation. He felt amber eyes on him for a moment longer before an odd man in a black lab coat with short blue hair and golden eyes came to the podium in front of Uryuu. He smacked a ruler on the wooden surface and the Hueco students all looked up, scowling.

"Good morning, students. This is Chemistry. If you aren't supposed to be in here get out," his voice was just as strange as his appearance, raspy and high pitched. The two boys wearing black got up and the teacher pointed a ruler at them. "Sit down, Hisagi and Madarame! Don't think that'll work again!"

"C'mon Kurotsuchi, ain't you sick of us yet?" The bald one put his hands in his pockets.

"Considering you could not graduate last year because you failed to receive this credit, it's in your best interest to sit down and pass, because I don't want to see you in here again! And that's Sensei to you two!"

Uryuu couldn't help but watch the banter by turning in his seat, raising an eyebrow at the two troublemaking Karakura students. He almost let a gasp escape him as a ruler smacked the front of his desk, making him face forwards right into the gold eyes of the teacher.

"Board is this way, sophomore." Uryuu cleared his throat a little and gave a nod.

"Yes, sensei."

"Good. Kurotsuchi-sensei is what you little inklings will call me, and I will not accept anything else—"

"Kuro-kun!" A dirty blond man stuck his head into the room, getting a box of markers thrown at the door he escaped behind. Uryuu heard laughing in the hall and assumed the man had to pick up the hat that flew off his head.

"Ignore that fool. If he shows up again, pour acid into his eyes. Let us begin by getting to a lab station with a partner." Uryuu held back a shiver at the calmness of the suggestion. He stood from his seat as the others did; Hueco's pairing up together as easily as Hisagi and Madarame. Uryuu looked around for any other students, then remembered he was the only sophomore, and didn't know anyone. He glanced over to the much taller pink-haired boy, who smirked.

"Being picked last is common for a fool like you, isn't it?"

"Be quiet." He glanced around, all tables filled and no one left over. Kurotsuchi had set up his class numbers perfectly, and apparently didn't care about attendance either.

"Ah, defensive are we? How intriguing…"

"Hardly, as long as we don't pour acid into each other's eyes we can make this work, for now," he sat at the open lab table, the pink haired one sitting on the other spot to his right and tapped his chin. "So what's your name?"

"Isn't it proper etiquette to introduce yourself first? But don't, I don't really feel the need to know your name." Pinky spun a SEPUP tray in front of himself, starting the experiment Kurotsuchi was writing away furiously on the board. Uryuu glared, not enjoying his company anymore he just adjusted his glasses, as a nervous habit to suppress some building rage. He got their text book and other equipment; both seemed to be in a silent competition to who could finish their experiment first. Uryuu worked quickly, while the other was more intricate and precise, still accomplishing the same only slightly behind Ishida's speed. The two finished at the same moment, setting a test tube onto a burner.

"I win." The pink haired one grinned, making Ishida glare.

"We tied, aren't your glasses supposed to aid your blindness?" Now the other frowned, turning away and had his elbows on the table.

"Aren't yours?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I do believe you added hydrogen dioxide instead of water…"

Ishida stared before turning to his test tube, which started to bubble and foam all over the burner, making sizzling and crackling noises. Uryuu panicked, turning the burner off and pulling the tube away with the tongs quickly, dropping it onto the floor and shattering the foamy mess all over the clean tiles. Pinky started to chuckle a little under his breath, but the rest of the classroom went silent. Ishida sighed, looking up and jumped back, having a leering face of Kurotsuchi's a little too close to his own.

"Detention."

"But, sensei—"

"Detention. And Grantz, you may accompany him."

The pink haired man almost choked on an intake of air. "Why, Kurotsuchi-sensei? I had nothing to do with his mistake!"

"Because this is a battlefield, and you do not leave your team behind because of a nerdy competitive complex."

"Look, I can set this shit on fire!"

"Hisagi!"

Ishida had never had detention, and hoped to some god that he wouldn't experience it again with the Hueco and hooligans.

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><p>Kurosaki left Health class, finally getting Nnoitra off his heels. He didn't leave quietly, however, still in the middle of a rantbitch session and ruffled Ichigo's hair before scampering away. Ichigo hoped he tripped over those clown shoes; they certainly weren't fashionable, and he knew jack shit about fashion.

He started to wonder if the Hueco's vulgarity was rubbing off on him.

Starting towards his second class, he looked over the schedule to find the room number. Of course, it had to be on the other end of the school and on the top floor. He sighed, heading to the flight of stairs at the end of the hallway. Once turning the corner he ran into a shorter male with navy hair, who proceeded to drop his chemistry notes.

"Shit, I'm sorry man." Ichigo started collecting them, as did the other boy.

"It's fine; at least it was an accident." He took the papers from Ichigo with thanks and put them more firmly in his grasp. Ichigo went to get back to his standing position when he was shoved, having to catch himself on a hand to stop from 1) falling onto his face and shattering his nose or 2) tumbling down the stairs into the basement. He growled, hearing a satisfied laugh behind him.

"Fuck you, _Grimmjow_." He got up firmly. The shorter and smaller Karakura student looked between them before he headed towards his next class, unwilling to get involved. The feral Hueco just gave a toothy smirk.

"Well I thought I'd help you bend over for yer geeky boyfriend there."

"Well _thanks_." Ichigo scorned, sarcasm dripping off his tongue as he headed upstairs. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the bluenet staring at him for a while longer before retreating down into the basement. The strawberry raised an eyebrow, curiously wondering what class he could be taking, and promptly made himself lose that thought in favor of running up flights of stairs so he wasn't late.

All the way up the stairs he kept thinking about what the punk had said…bend him over? Really? Sure, he'd been knelt over but it was to help that geek pick up his stuff. He didn't even know the guy, and he seemed sort of smug anyways…and he had a bunch of notes. He was sort of worried for when he would have to take chemistry his junior or senior year.

He almost ran into yet another person…he should start learning to watch where he was going. This person he did recognize.

"Sorry…Ulquiorra-sempai." He hesitated to say his name, since they weren't properly introduced. He did however have no doubt that he was an upperclassman.

"Kurosaki-san. Apologies aren't required, be thankful I were not Jaeger-kun."

"Jaeger?"

"Jaeger Jaquez is Grimmjow-kun's surname." Ichigo was slightly curious on how he'd put such an ending on Grimmjow's name after he'd almost beat him into the window, but figured it was just the shorter emo being polite. He did let the thought cross in his mind

"Right, that's a good thing. I need to go to class though, don't get beat up."

"My regards to you as well." He leisurely continued downstairs, while Ichigo sprinted up.

When he reached the top floor he was short of breath. Curse stairs, they will pay one day. He speed-walked down the hallway to get to the other end, hoping he wouldn't be late for Algebra. He'd weaseled out of Geometry by taking an informal class after school in ninth grade, collecting enough time in the curriculum to receive the credit. Case in point: A sophomore in a junior class. Grade hopping was common in this place.

He entered the classroom just as the bell chimed, breathing a sigh of relief. He didn't even glance around to see the room's occupants, instead just finding the first empty seat in front row by the door. Sighing, he put his backpack next to his desk. A man about Ichigo's height, or a little taller, wearing a green and white hat and black robes that were pretty loosely fitting, sat at the front desk

"Morning, class!" He announced quite loudly, "Isn't it hot in here? Pff…make the rooms bigger and don't cool the darn things…Oh well!" He pulled out a paper fan, waving it in front of his face. "Anyways, I don't wanna teach today, so, let's just hang out. I like playing competitive games by the way, if you think of anything ridiculous." He tossed a small foam basketball in his hand, propping his sandaled feet up.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow at the weird teacher, but was definitely okay with not having any work on the first day. The name plate on the front of the teacher's desk read "Urahara" in red lettering.

The other students took the chance to move around and talk with people they knew. Ichigo glanced around a little for anyone he may at least have familiarity with, but came up short. The class seemed evenly divided between those in black and white uniforms, and it showed as the Hueco and Karakura students sat on other sides of the room to "hang out".

Within five minutes, Ichigo was officially bored. Since it was second period he had no homework to do, and he didn't want to make friends with anyone that was already busy talking to their own friends. He sighed, casually glancing around the room as he started to zone out. The class was full of posters with mathematical jokes on them, and also students. The only free desk was on Ichigo's right, the second closest to the door. Speaking of the door, it opened, and Ichigo's jaw dropped.

Holding a paper boat full of breakfast, Grimmjow Jaeger Jaquez pushed the math room's door open with his foot. He had the fork in his mouth, and was probably eating a caramel roll based on the mess in the container. Urahara glanced over from playing catch with his foam ball, taking a clipboard and making a checking motion on it for his roll call.

"Thanks for joining us Jaggy, take a seat and take your time having breakfast." _Oh, so he went to the basement to get breakfast?_ Seemed like a waste to Ichigo, but he didn't have much time to think of it as he recalled the only empty seat left was—

"Mornin', Berry," he smirked, sitting ungracefully into the creaky desk, twirling his fork. "How's my favorite bitch-of-the-day?"

"You'd know enough about bitches, since you are one." Ichigo retorted, not fully expecting how the violent Hueco student would respond—which wasn't well.

"Why you little-" He was cut off by a tiny basketball striking his spiky blue head, bouncing away and back around Urahara's desk.

"Whoopsie!" The hatter snickered, using a cane to hit the ball and bounce it back up within grabbing distance. _Where the hell did that cane come from? Never mind it._

Grimmjow snarled at the teacher, obviously contemplating an attack but acted no further on it. He continued eating his caramel roll, not speaking to Ichigo while doing so (thank goodness). Ichigo figured now would be a great time to get distracted and pulled out his maroon notebook. He'd intended it to be one for taking excessive notes (he guessed English) but flipped to the last page in it and started to doodle. Kurosaki was no artist, but to pass time, it would suffice. For a moment, at least.

"Oi, Berry, quit drawin' porn." The Hueco's voice shattered his concentration on his drawing. Ichigo became irritated and glared up at the blue-haired man that was dangerously close to his desk, having leaned over to observe and knew very well that was not what the younger had been drawing. Ichigo frowned, putting his arm around the side so Grimmjow couldn't see his drawings of bunnies and bears. His sisters liked furry things and that was all he knew how to draw. Grimmjow seemed to notice this, grinning like a jackass.

"Learn that from yer girlfriend, Berry? Oh wait, you probably ain't got one." He added in after a moment of thought. Ichigo frowned but didn't look up, not wanting to give the blue mascara-wearing Hueco the satisfaction.

"My sisters, Jaeger Jaquez."

"Eh, a bitch is a bitch, Ichi." He waved it off, leaning back against the arm bar of the desk, his legs stretched up under Ichigo's desk. Ichigo was getting annoyed now, curious to why the vicious Hueco would bother…small talk? Could he even call it that? Either way, he didn't like the punk insulting his sisters.

"This brings me to my previous statement about your knowledge of bitches, so I won't bring it up again." He huffed, closing his notebook and putting it back into his bag. Grimmjow seemed to be seething like a cat, but didn't pounce.

"Well excuse fu…-dging me," he muttered the last bit, seeing a basketball bounce in his direction. He also mumbled about some non-observant person, and Ichigo could only guess who. "Maybe I wanted to talk 'bout something. Take it as a compliment that I'd ever talk to a sophomore like you, Berry."

"I'm honored." Ichigo rolled his eyes, taking out a calculator instead and started typing on it. Ah, Texas Instruments with their built-in games and ability to make Christmas trees from slashes. Grimmjow didn't seem too amused, doing the rubber pencil trick while still being in his (apparently) comfortable position. It did not take long, however, for the amusement to cease and the blue haired rebel needed new entertainment.

"Can you play games on that thing?" He leaned over again to see the calculator Ichigo was using. As he asked, Kurosaki nodded, busy with a game similar to Tetris. The Hueco junior frowned, trying to see the screen as best as he could by just taking the game from Ichigo's hands.

"Hey!" Ichigo blinked, glaring over at the older student that was looking over the device.

"Looks dumb… can I play it?" Grimmjow held it up so Ichigo could see he didn't claw out the screen or something. The strawberry blonde sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Takes one to know one, I guess. Fine, you can," he decided to offer this up as a truce, even if it were temporary. Grimmjow grinned, pressing buttons on the small pads of the keyboard, cursing quietly when he made a mistake. Ichigo grinned, almost taking satisfaction in the bluenet's problems. With a huff, the panther of a young man handed the game back to Kurosaki, pixilated letters reading "GAME OVER" plastering its screen. "Heh, you suck." Ichigo couldn't resist teasing the pouting teenager, who flipped him the bird under the cover of his jacket.

"Like to see you try, ginger. Yer the one I took it from."

"So, that means you took it in the middle of my game, so you set yourself up for failure."

"Whatever! Give it," he muttered, snatching the instrument back from Ichigo. "I'll try again and kick your high score's ass." He started pressing buttons madly, playing Tetris hardcore. Ichigo snickered, just watching the blue haired Hueco struggle with getting to level two. He started to think—did this make him and Grimmjow…friends?

"Hey dumbfuck, level two!"

Well, if that was a term of endearment…

"Congratulations, assface." Ichigo retorted sarcastically, and was returned with a look of surprise from the other. Did Jeager Jaquez not expect him to give such a response? Still, Kurosaki started to chuckle under his breath so that the class wouldn't draw their attention towards him. Grimmjow's expression stayed the same before dropping like a cat getting water sprayed on it.

"What're you laughin' at, dipshit?" He added the last insult quickly, determined to not be outshined. Ichigo grinned, clicking his pen methodically.

"Your face, fucktard." And the face went back to one of surprise, and Ichigo snickered again. Grimmjow once more frowned, handing the calculator back to the red head.

"Yer weird," he crossed his arms, leaning further back into his chair. "And don't say 'It takes one to know one' like you have before." He added just as quickly as the insult from before. Ichigo shrugged, still having a grin on his face.

"Fine, I won't. You know I was gonna anyways," Ichigo stretched in his seat a little, yawning as he did. He caught Grimmjow's eye a second later, and he turned back to face the lounging punk. "So, are you and Ulquiorra friends?" Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, not looking as surprised but more his normal irritated composure.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"I was just wondering. I saw him in the hall after you 'helped me out' in the stairwell." Ichigo did air quotes to make sure Grimmjow noticed his sarcasm. The bluenet got a toothy predatory smirk again.

"Yer welcome. I guess you could say we're friends."

"So you beat up all your friends?" Ichigo pressed further, making the teeth of the tiger fade slightly.

"What's yer point? I can beat that bitch up anyways."

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should…" Ichigo pondered and looked back up into the aqua orbs of the junior. "Right? Yer just a violent alpha male."

"What am I, a dog?" He growled, sitting up straight. "And since when are you a pharmacist?"

"Psychiatrist. And my dad _is_ a doctor."

"Whatever! I don't need a shrink. I'll beat up that little fucker if I feel like it!" He snarled, and a foam basketball smacked him on the side of the head. "That's it!" He got up from the desk with a loud screech of metal on tile, pushing Ichigo's desk back in the process. He picked up the basketball and threw it back at the lazy teacher. The two proceeded to try breaking the other's face with the ball, Grimmjow swearing and Urahara laughing throughout the whole ordeal.

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><p>Twenty minutes later, Algebra ended with Urahara lightly scolding Grimmjow's behavior and giving him a slap on the wrist. The alpha male muttered a 'yes sir' while slinking out of the room, bag over his shoulder and hands in his pockets. Ichigo pulled his bag on over his head and headed out before Grimmjow. When he got out of the room and waited to get past a group of sophomore girls, he felt a sharp punch on his shoulder.<p>

"Ouch!" He looked back to see a falsely innocent Jeager Jaquez face. "Jeager, you douche." He rubbed his shoulder. It didn't hurt too badly; he hated to admit that his friend Tatsuki had probably hurt him during karate more than the punch did.

"Watch where yer going, Berry." He smirked, heading towards a stairwell at the end of the hall away from the clusterfuck of the main set.

"You watch it. Don't punch me like you do Ulquiorra."

"Hmmph, maybe I like to abuse my friends," Ichigo faltered his steps next to Grimmjow slightly. _Friends?_

Grimmjow must have realized what he said and scoffed, loudly. "Like Ulquiorra, not little squashmore piles like you." He adjusted his bag and slid down the stair banister, carrying on quickly. Kurosaki frowned; _did that mean Grimmjow was his friend now? _He tossed the thought away quickly and headed to the second floor for his next class.

"Oi, Strawberry!" The voice broke his reciprocated thoughts of a new violent friend as he saw Renji heading up the stairs. "Where ya headed?" The red headed one gave a smile. Ichigo did the same back, looking over his schedule and giving Abarai a nudge.

"Dude, you know I have English with you next."

"Yeah well, maybe I wanted to walk my favorite girl to his next class!" Renji laughed as he got another hard nudge in the side.

"I take it that means you found some chick to stalk and it's not even noon yet?" Ichigo asked, heading down to second floor with his classmate. Renji shrugged, having his hands behind his head as he walked.

"Eh, well there are a few broads with nice racks, but for sophomores they're pretty ditzy."

"I think that's normal, you know. If the guys from Hueco are so violent I'd think the girls would be as violent or just flighty." Ichigo replied, yawning when his taller friend looked down at him.

"What, you know some of them? Like that tall freakoid from this morning?" Ichigo bit his lip, contemplating.

"Well, Jiruga…I don't know what to think of him yet. I think he likes just annoying me so I deal with it. And there's this other guy, Ulquiorra who's sort of…weird. Grimmjow and I should be on better terms now…"

"Grimmjow? That blue-haired punk?" Renji huffed, heading down the English hallway. "How are you on better terms, he looked ready to throw you to the wolves."

"Yeah well, we have Algebra together."

"Mister smart pants."

"Shut up, I told you to take summer class with me…anyways, we were talking. Granted not all of it was polite but I guess he won't beat me up in the parking lot after school."

"That's what he wants you to think!" Renji smirked, putting his hands in his pockets as they approached their classroom. Ichigo rolled his eyes and shook his head, but the thought did cross his mind for a moment. Walking into the sophomore English room wasn't the most joyous occasion. Unlike most rooms that had silly motivational posters on it, this one was white and bare, the walls having bookshelves against them and lamps, not much else. Ichigo's eyes darted through the room and got bored quickly, following his long red-haired friend to the back of the room to take the last two seats available there.

The two seats in front of their rows were occupied by a pair of girls in white—one with short blond hair over her eye and a girl in black pigtails, her bangs covering the opposite side. Needless to say, their uniforms were not properly tended to, only about half the buttons on the front actually being put to use to keep school security at bay. Not that Ichigo was looking; he was more so surprised to see that Renji wasn't looking either. Apparently they didn't have the best 'racks' in his terminology. To Ichigo's and the black haired girl's left was a smaller boy that looked more like a freshman than a sophomore, having short bowl shaped black hair. The girl's seemed to enjoy teasing someone as if they weren't there, this someone being the smaller male.

Renji paid no attention, instead directing it to the tall professor behind a podium at the front. His black suit was neat and tidy, adding a notch on the teacher dress code that could only be matched by the principal (as Ichigo could only imagine). Abarai gulped, recognizing this as their freshman friend Rukia's older brother, and they did look alike. He had long, silky black hair with some graying parts on his bangs. He didn't look old, and their boys could only think it was caused by stress, not age. The elder Kuchiki stood poised and ready until the bell rang. His full classroom was chattering quietly (more specifically, the girls in the back of his room were talking while thinking they were whispering, which they certainly weren't since Ichigo did _not_ want to hear about their probation stories). Once the alarm bell sounded, he drummed his fingers, the quiet noise even managing to silence the girls to look forward at their English teacher. He didn't smile, keeping a stoic, almost tired expression on his features the whole while.

"Good Morning class. My name is Byakuya Kuchiki, and you may not refer to me in anything other than 'Sensei'. I've heard Kuchiki, Doc, Kuya, and Nazi before, so do not make me add to the suspension list. Now, go retrieve a textbook from that back left bookshelf and put your name in it, and bring it to class everyday like it is your survival package. Because it is." He straightened his jacket as students started to the back to get the books. Unlike most text books, these ones looked new even though they were over five years old, and Ichigo assumed it was because of Sensei's cruel instruction.

Ichigo managed to get himself a nicely bound, insanely heavy book, since he and Renji were the closest to the bookshelf. On the way to sit back in their desks, they happened to notice the pair of Hueco girls jabbing their books into the small Karakura boy's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He simply sighed, getting a book he was able to reach before returning to his seat. Ichigo rolled his eyes, looking over at Abarai and hoping for some look of agreement, but came up short. His friend was busy writing his name, and for some reason was either taking his time, or pretending he still was writing while looking up at their tall teacher.

"Turn to page 117, we will begin our lesson on early American poetry today and you will have a homework assignment due tomorrow." Said teacher announced, no inflection in his tone as the pages of books started to turn. Not to Kurosaki's surprise, the girls were muttering some things to each other while doing so, but he was able to tell that Kuchiki was not so unobservant.

"Menoly, if you would read this poem by this Irish-American poet. And do not forget to add correct dialect." Sensei said, making the black haired girl look up and grimace at him. Ichigo looked down at the page to see a very heavy-in-dialect poem that he could not even interpret, snickering to himself under his breath. Karma was a bitch.

"Sensei, like...I don't think so. It's not even in English." She said between chewing her bubblegum that reeked of a cinnamon scent.

"I assure you, it is in English. This is not German class." Kuchiki retorted, not the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. Menoly frowned, blowing a bubble with her gum while glowering at the tall administrator, giving clear indication that she was not going to attempt reciting the literature, English or not.

Kuchiki shook his head, barely shifting one of his locks of hair out of place. He perused a sheet of paper that Ichigo would assume to be their class list.

"Abarai, care to assist the class, or will we just not discuss the poem and give you the assignment now?" Kurosaki's eyes shifted over to his friend, who was leaning on his elbows on the desk, looking up at the teacher. He was quiet but sighed, looking over the line before starting to read it, having to pause several times. The girls snickered to themselves, as did the whole class since the words were so old and the dialect was so strong. By the end of the twenty-some line poem, Renji's face was the color of his hair and Byakuya had walked to the back of the room to straighten an askew line of the books. The class settled, and Renji jumped in his seat slightly as Kuchiki gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Well done. Now, in line 5, what is the speaker trying to convey?" He looked over Renji's shoulder to see the book before heading back through the aisle to his podium. Ichigo grinned as he saw his friend sinking in his seat, crossing his arms. Kurosaki mouthed the words 'Well done' to him and got a silly expression from Renji.

Maybe even in the class they couldn't fuck around in, they would be able to keep each other entertained. Whether Kuchiki meant to or not, he said some amusing things with a straight face, and Ichigo would enjoy seeing him losing his temper with the Hueco girls. He did agree with Rukia that he was a hardass, though.

Oh, and after that—he made it perfectly clear, in English, that there was no gum allowed in his class room by popping Menoly's, and her friend Loly's, bubbles with a ballpoint pen. The room smelled like cinnamon and strawberries for the rest of the hour.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry this took sooooo long. Most of it, like my Pokémon fic, was written in a car drive (in the dark…pffft). So thank you everyone for the favorites and alerts. Please leave me comments and feedback! If I get enough reviews and whatnot over the summer I will be able to update more often (no school yay!).**

**If you couldn't tell…Renji's got his eyes on Byakuya's rack XD and I have a plan for a few chapters on. SO PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU WOULD LIKE CHAPTER THREE TO START WITH: Ishida OR Histugaya!**

**I don't know if I will fit them both into the same one, but I have something for Ichigo planned as well ;) this is the first day of school, so it'll last about 1-2 more chapters and then I will do some time skippies. (which is why I want to hold off on the Ichigo idea until I get those two done first.)**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Remember to comment, mwahaha**


	3. Chapter 3: On the Contrary

**A/N: ***coff* Yeah, I'm a lazy pile. WASSUP. XD I'm still not sure about the title of this fic but eff it for now! Anyways, I just finished my very very late chapter of my Pokémon fanfic and thought I should at least start my veryveryVERY late chapter of this! If you wanna see why it's so behind schedule, go on and read chapter 5 of that other fic.

Anyways, I only got one comment saying who should be in this chapter XD Thanks JaegerJaquezlover101 for reading my author's note XD

And with that, we introduce the first TIME SKIPPUUU of this fic. It won't be much, but without further adieu, here's lil snowy Hitsugaya's chapter! (and the first chapter with a non-latin title name…the French sounds much better than the latin one)

Warning: Copious amounts of shota…I mean— language.

Also, I take this opportunity to mention I started a sequel to my old Bleach Roleplay site. Message me if you'd be interested in more information.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Three<strong>_

_**Au Contraire**_

The marker made light squeaks as it was pressed on the dry erase board several times, descriptively writing out "Toshiro Histugaya" on its pure white surface. Similarly, the writer of the characters was just as pure white, from his porcelain skin to his naturally spiky hair. The shaggy homeroom teacher was clicking away on his brand-name laptop with some strange fruit on the back cover, and stood.

"Class, please be courteous to your new classmate. He's a transfer student from Dangai junior high school." Zangetsu said as he adjusted the collar of his baggy dress shirt. It was a Monday, and even the teacher had no intention of dressing up for it. The miniscule white student in charcoal attire bowed as Zangetsu gave him class rules on a sheet of paper to avoid having to speak any more. The short prodigy treaded back to the end of the classroom, the available seat was near a group of white-clad males (much taller than him) which left him slightly concerned, but not visibly so.

A pair of strange red-headed boys looked back at him as he took his seat, nearly falling into it. Toshiro still averted his icy eyes from the other stares, pulling out his organized binder—which contained his schedule.

Being a forwarded student, all of his classes were at sophomore level. Hitsugaya himself was slightly insulted at not being elevated further, but the vice principal Aizen remarked "They are mandatory". Curse college and its requirements—they should be praising him by now. Even as an elevated student, Toshiro would not take part in academic competitions; he was smart for an eighth grader, not a high schooler.

Not that he would say he was average in this setting: Proficient-And he would keep it that way.

"To-shi-ro, eh? Can I call ya Shiro? Maybe snowy?" A vile, nails-on-chalkboard voice snapped his vapid thoughts of success away. Toshiro turned his vision on the sickening face of the vertically profound youth—wearing the equally sickening color of white.

"Hitsugaya will suffice." Hitsugaya himself replied with his cool indifference.

"Keh, all these Karakura nerds are uptight enough, princess. A hello would suffice too, right Tes?" snake eyes shifted to his shivering partner, Tesla Lindocruz, who nodded. The taller one snickered, flashing a wide toothed, classic grin at the lower seated boy.

"Hello." Toshiro again gave no interest in speaking to them. If he hated something more than he hated white and tall people—it was grins. A warm smile would soften most hearts, but only begin to thaw his disinterest. A smirk invoked challenge, one Toshiro would accept.

A grin showed evil intentions, none he could calculate.

These were the truly unreadable people. And he would _never_ trust someone that fit his list.

The nightmare growled, looking back at his blonde friend. Hitsugaya could hear all he was saying, but found it too immature to give his rebuttal. Toshiro would ignore it, but he was _right there_. Still, he did his best not to let it boil his rising temper, reading his schedule until he could memorize it. A few more voices began whispering in seats ahead of him, before the orange haired kid (that he'd mistaken for a red-head, like his friend) turned around.

"Jiruga, can't you go a day without harassing someone?" The orange boy scoffed, looking back at the sneering face of Nnoitra Jiruga.

"I tried once, 'bout died. Torment is in my blood." Nnoitra snickered, almost shrilly. The orange head rolled his eyes but had to force resisting a chuckle.

"Too bad almost doesn't cut it." The long red haired male next to him started to laugh, and Jiruga glared.

"Fuck off, Pineapple. You too, Strawberry!"

"Is there a fascination with fruit and you, Jiruga-senpai?" Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow at the towering one to his right. Strawberry started to grin again.

"He's a real fruit, neh Jiruga-_senpai_?" Now Ichigo was starting to tease, making the snowy student frown. Jiruga huffed, leaning forwards in his desk to lay himself down as much as he could.

"The Berry is more of the fruit!" Jiruga snorted, glaring over at the shorter transfer student. "But if you say so, I need to think of a fruit to call you, tiny."

The bastard.

Hitsugaya glared, crystal orbs wanting to stab the taller one who _dare _call him _tiny._ He went to give a retort, but the pineapple red head scoffed.

"Just leave the kid alone Jiruga, give him a week tops before you start harassing him. First day is the worst."

"Second is the worse," Ichigo sighed. "Jeager Jaquez pushed me down the stairs successfully last week." Hitsugaya looked at the calendar as the orange strawberry re-informed his friend of some giant demon cat throwing him down a flight of stairs after lunch. School had started a week ago, officially, and when Hitsugaya would normally be getting used to his new year at middle school, he instead surpassed classes in 5 days. His ego got the better of him, starting another self achievement rant when fingers snapped in front of his eyes.

"Yo, Blueberry get yer rear in gear!" Jiruga started snickering at his cleverness. Hitsugaya looked up at him but stood quickly, pulling his binder up into his arms.

"Blueberry?" Hitsugaya raised another snowy, scowling eyebrow. Nnoitra nodded, ruffling the spiky youth's hair.

"Cuz of yer eyes. There ain't any other blue fruit— But there ain't white ones either, little snowy~" The tall one scampered off, Hitsugaya seriously considering destroying him, in a very painful way if possible. He frowned, scowling as the tall one exited the room, having learned to duck in the doorway. The strawberry kid (Ichigo, maybe?) followed him, waving to his other friend as they disappeared down the hall.

Toshiro paced down the hallway, keeping his steps light as to not add to the clamor of first period. He saw the tall one over the entire wave of people, and then bright orange hair escaping through the crowd next to him_. "They must have class together."_ Hitsugaya thought to himself, heading to the main stairwell.

A monumental mistake, as he started to ascend two flights of stair with _cows. _Incredulously, they pushed and shoved and snorted just like a pack of herded animals. Okay, granted it was Monday, but they were such inconsiderate people. And he thought middle school was rough. As if maneuvering through this rodeo wasn't difficult enough—Toshiro was small. Really small. Most people in high school hit puberty and had their own growth spurts.

Toshiro, not so much. Making it to 5 foot was already a decent challenge, as 4"11 and 7/8ths was troublesome enough to say and stand.

Grandma _really _needed to start counting his hair as actual height if he spent so much time perfecting it.

"Watch it, kid!" Toshiro moved just in time to miss a giant brick of a jock dashing down the up-moving stairwell. He frowned but finally pushed and shoved his way onto the third floor. The halls cleared as most people got where they intended to quicker than most would on their first day, and Hitsugaya was no exception—even if he memorized the room number.

Room 312 had many sinks and laboratory stations equally aligned, beakers and burners neatly displayed on each. This half of the third floor was dedicated to the science department, the other for the mathematics. Really, in short sense: it was a heavily academic area, as if actually getting to that floor was not difficult enough. He looked around, near to one of the last few to arrive he wanted to simply take a vacant seat in back, but went up to the mahogany desk next to a larger lab table up front.

The teacher sitting behind the desk was wearing baggy and wrinkled black clothing, looking almost like a hakama or shihakushou from those old manga books Hitsugaya has seen (but not read). He also had a green and tan hat lying loosely on dusty blonde hair and shadowed his eyes.

"…Excuse me," Hitsugaya said after a moment of not being noticed. The teacher looked up, taking his feet off the desk and stood. Thank goodness he wasn't overly tall.

"Good morning, little one!" Annoyance was obvious on Hitsugaya's face. To avoid speaking in said tone, handed a green slip of paper to the teacher. He took it, reading it over a little and lifted his hat up, revealing chestnut eyes with some dark circles beneath them. "Ahh, little one is the new transfer student from Dangai I've heard about! Welcome…I'm Urahara, Biology— and Algebra— teacher."

"…Pleasure to meet you, sensei." Hitsugaya forced politeness. Urahara seemed to find that tone acceptable, and pat Hitsugaya on the shoulder.

"Great, let's see…" he scoped out the classroom, gently nudging Hitsugaya in the direction he wanted him to go. "There's a free seat over here, Toshi-kun."

"Toshiro." He corrected, sitting on the free stool. The hatter clomped away, not even listening. He mumbled a little something to himself about how too carefree this teacher was, especially if he had two classes to teach. The bell rang, the other stools being occupied by now and Toshiro already felt eyes looking at him from all angles. Urahara gave no mind to any of this, deciding to start a review on their previous chapter about asexual reproduction in organisms.

Toshiro sighed, considering this was a review from his earth science class in 7th grade. He still pulled out his binder and opened the first notebook in it, writing down a few notes and avoiding the stares. Most students had gone along with what they were supposed to learn; others were a bit more distracted at why Toshiro hadn't been publicly introduced.

Urahara didn't let them think about it much longer, making his students read a section and answer the questions at the end. Hitsugaya got straight to work, reading the words on the page as quickly as if it was his own name, every stroke of the pen known in an instant. Nearing the end of the hour, students shut their books and returned them to the basket under the desk, either having finished their homework or didn't intend to. Hitsugaya looked around the room before copying what they were doing, returning his binder to his bag. Students went about talking amongst themselves (Hitsugaya wasn't deaf, he knew what the popular topic was), when hands went over his eyes.

"Guess who!" The female voice chirped. Hitsugaya's aqua orbs widened.

"Hinamori-chan?"

"I told you to call me Momo!" The delicate fingers were removed from his eyesight, and Hitsugaya turned to see his old friend standing behind his stool. "I haven't seen you in so long, Toshiro-kun…I didn't expect to see you here!"

"I didn't even realize you were in high school…" A smile finally started to appear on Hitsugaya's face. Momo was a true friend; she lived next door to Hitsugaya's grandmother and brought leftovers over frequently. He especially enjoyed when during the summer festivals she would take him to the carnivals and markets for fun and fresh watermelon.

_God, he loved watermelon._

He hadn't seen her since she had to go to the Rukon middle school, Hitsugaya being left in elementary school, and once he'd finally gotten out of that place, he ended up going to another middle school—not Hinamori's. Thankfully, his middle school career ended abruptly, and he hadn't seen Momo since last summer, and certainly hadn't heard that she was going to the new joint school. But he could only imagine she was genuine in saying she didn't expect to see him in the same grade as her.

A little insulting, but Momo knew Hitsugaya. If it was too much work, he probably wouldn't have transferred.

"I'm sorry we couldn't see each other this summer…I was in Okinawa to visit my grandfather for 3 months. I barely got on the flight to make it here when school started."

"I understand, Momo. If we hadn't met now we would have the next time you baked."

"Right!" She smiled through the ringing of the next bell. She looked over at the clock and pulled on her backpack. "I'll see you at lunch?"

Hitsugaya nodded. "I'd like that."

"Great, seeya then!" She waved and headed out the door. Hitsugaya couldn't hide the small, childish grin he was wearing as he pulled on his bag and exited the room. It soon disappeared when a long, spindly hand ruffled his head hard. Toshiro turned in the hall to see that tall-fucker Nnoitra waving his hand and fingers at the disgruntled boy. Next to him was a shorter (but still tall) blue haired male, grinning like some feral animal that needed to be put behind bars with a "Do not feed" sign taped to it. Equally obnoxious was his electric blue and rebellious hair, almost mimicking Toshiro's.

"Why couldn't he be the blueberry?" Toshiro found himself snapping at the lanky student. Nnoitra looked at wildboy, and burst into hysteric cackling. Hitsugaya's lips turned into a line, resisting a pout at the older boy's reaction, and the confused-as-hell look the blueberry gave his friend.

"You're retarded, Jiruga."

"Must be why ya' git along wit' me so well."

The bickering continued down the crowding halls while Hitsugaya headed back to the main stairwell. He found it convenient that he had climbed three flights of stairs, and now had to go back to the basement, only to go back to the third floor for Algebra later that day, and then to the basement for lunch and gym class. The stairs were a disaster once more, and going down was just as awful as the trek upwards, this time he was focusing on not falling into people.

He headed down into the basement, passing the kitchen where the voluptuous women of various heights prepared the lunch of the day, "Cheesy Breadsticks or Eggroll with rice." Taking a left, he found a long hallway unlike the other's he'd seen. The walls were not very decorated, a sign at the other end of the hall giving notice to the family living and foods classes being down there, but he wasn't looking for that. Walking down the corridor there was an abrupt left turn going up a ramp. Quirking an eyebrow, a plaque said: Room B 7-8. Hitsugaya wasn't looking for basement floors either, but from what his school directory said was there was a secret stairwell to a third floor classroom.

The contractor must have forgotten rooms or something.

He went up the ramp, students disappearing into a criminal law class further down it. To the right was a thin, narrow staircase in a doorway, the sign next to it saying: 333-334 and an arrow pointing upwards. Toshiro headed up the stairs that would have barely held two people passing each other; they weren't too long, meaning it couldn't go all the way to third floor. Honestly, the contractor should have just put this on first floor and given it different numbers.

He took a right turn into room 333, a long class room with 5 rows with up to 10 desks in each. They were not all filled, in fact barely half of them were. A doorway was in the back of the class, leading into another room with no lights on. Avoiding meeting any other student's eye, he went to the tall, steel desk at the front of the extravagant, hidden classroom with a perfect view of the courtyard and the front of the school.

Hitsugaya looked up to his teacher, freezing in his spot as said teacher was already in front of him, looking down with a wide, toothless grin. Toshiro would describe his eyes if he could, but they were pursed shut in a fox-like manner. His silvery hair shaped his head perfectly, glistening under fluorescent lights but parted away from his eyes. Wearing a mixed white and black uniform, a white dress shirt with black pants, Hitsugaya could not tell which school the teacher had originally been from, if he even had worked for either school.

His grin widened, fox eyes opening only a shred to show the brightest color of blue he'd ever seen, even after looking in a mirror. Toshiro's eyes almost widened and considered taking a step back from the leering man, but couldn't, as a boney hand pat him on the shoulder.

"Pleased ta' meet ya', Snowy-kun. Take a seat, anywhar ya' like." His grin, if possible, grew, giving Toshiro the biggest wave of unease he'd sensed in his short life.

Tall, white, and a grin.

He hated this man with the sin of a grin. He could barely look away. It was _scary._

He nodded, pulling away from him and put the scowl back on to replace his agape expression, going to the back of the room to be as far from him as possible.

* * *

><p>Ichigo paced through the halls, going down into the basement and cutting through the cafeteria tables to get to his locker quicker. He stashed away his English book in the small space and retrieved his gym clothes. He had gym after lunch, but since he had this period before lunch free—he started to hang out in the gymnasium. Sometime he did Kuchiki's homework, other times he watched the games unfold. A few times Kenpachi-sensei offered him to jump in, and depending on his mood—he would.<p>

Today, he was ready to warm up before gym. The teacher said that Mondays were either workout days or group events, like Matball or Survivor or Dodgeball. Ichigo wasn't a fan of the last two (he couldn't throw, and senselessly running for your life wasn't a strong suit) but Matball, an alteration of kickball, was his new favorite gym activity. He hoped it was Matball day, but at the same time, he wanted to save his ass-kicking strength for his own class. Sophomores never beat the seniors, but beating juniors was just a kick below the belt to them.

The orange haired boy headed down the history and weight room wing of the school. The bell sounded as he went up three steps and onto tiled flooring, passing a screened opening and countertop used for concessions at games. Ahead of the stairs was the possible pride of the school—Zanpakutou Gym, named after Yamamoto Zanpakutou, the founder of the original Karakura high school. It was renovated and restored, wanting to keep the space the same as it had always been, even with the additions to the school as a whole. It was definitely a remarkable gym, and that was only the larger of three in the whole school.

Ichigo walked past the plaque giving a history of Yamamoto and his achievements, pushing the doors open to the gym. No one was present, probably getting roll call and finishing dressing out. Ichigo sat on his spot on the bleachers, sitting a row or two up to avoid any projectiles that may come his way. He set his bag down and leaned back so his ass was on the foot space of the row behind him and his seat was under his knees. He pulled out his notebook for English, not really wanting to do his homework. He decided he'd only play Matball if Kenpachi-sensei asked, and refuse if it was anything else.

Tapping his pencil on his notebook, he really didn't want to analyze the author's meaning of life through the color sienna. He started scribbling and making little doodles on the side of his notebook, one including a stick figure with hair in disarray and sharp, pointy teeth. He snickered at his work, making another, taller figure shaped like a spoon to bother the other one. Ichigo wasn't an artist, but damn it looked good enough for him.

The doors of the gymnasium opened with a squeak as Kenpachi, a tall, well-built man with black spiky hair and a whistle around his neck entered the gym. He could only be matched in height by that tall bastard Nnoitra, but Ichigo had to assume it wouldn't be by much. Behind him trailed his sophomore class, among it was that bowl-hair-cut kid Ichigo had English class with, wearing sweats and a baggy shirt. Ichigo wasn't sure, but he remembered his name was something along the lines of Yamada. A few other members of Ichigo's classes filed in behind the tall gym teacher, but most Ichigo was unfamiliar with.

"Alright guys, Monday means Matball. We're gonna play the juniors and we're gonna win, a'ight?" Kenpachi said over his shoulder. His class gave simultaneous nods, and a few kids went and gathered the mats to use as bases. Kenpachi looked over to Ichigo as he watched the class, Ichigo giving a short nod and went back to writing. The gym instructor let him do what he was doing, uninterrupted.

The door creaked once more as the three other gym teachers entered—one woman and her two breasts. She was tan skinned, not in a fake way, and had luminous blonde hair that hung over her smoldering, sea foam green eyes. She had white shorts and a tight white athletic shirt with the number 3 over one of her assets on a small pocket. Her class of juniors was well built, not nearly as scrawny as the sophomores Ichigo was used to aiding. They were so screwed.

Ichigo didn't bother watching the rest of the juniors walking in; afraid he'd end up staring at a few too-hot guys. As deep in a closet full of shit he was, he was bi, not gay. Boobs were awesome, but nothing could match a really hot guy. Even with Renji being a bastard and telling him to stop complaining and get laid, Ichigo had to agree that now, seeing high school and only being there a week, he really needed it. It was all people talked about, and was starting to make his skin crawl.

He heard the teachers meet and speak, the juniors going to kick first. Kenpachi did a head count quickly, having to point and do so once everyone stood still.

"Yo, Kurosaki!" Ichigo's strawberry head looked up from his notebook quickly, the star-headed teacher across the gym, pointing at the juniors. "Halibel's class is 5 short. I don't think their ego will make up for that, right?" He grinned, feral. Ichigo blinked, not really wanting to join a side that would win anyway. Hell, the only way they could lose is if they couldn't run around the bases twice in time to still have someone up to kick.

"Well, Kenpachi-sen—" He stopped, spotting a familiar, equally feral grin in the group of "disadvantaged" juniors. His eyes narrowed, observing the wild blue hair of his newest rival. Grimmjow had not ceased to vex him this whole first week of school, and he'd be damned if he let him see him pussy out of playing a manly ball game.

"Sure." He corrected himself, closing his notebook and climbing off the bleachers and going to the front of the gym. Kenpachi gave him a hard pat on the back for being a good sport, but whispered something about not making his class feel bad.

Ichigo didn't care if the sophomores were his classmates—he was going to fucking kick ass if he had to play when he had homework due tomorrow.

"Like Berry can make up for us being down players, 'might as well've given us a goat as a teammate." He heard Grimmjow jeer from the head of the line. He must've been one of those "star player" guys that always budged to the front for his reputation. Ichigo glared up at him, earning the flash of white canines and his signature grin he gave Ichigo at every pass in the hallway on the way to their Algebra class. Ichigo resisted his cheeks heating up from it, having seen the smirk so frequently in the halls and right next to him in class, he couldn't get over it. It suited Grimmjow, and if he wasn't such a douche, Ichigo would've called it sexy.

He probably would anyways, seeing as he had to look away from his slightly-tan skin under a ripped t-shirt and basketball shorts. He was sculpted in every way that was so good it should've been illegal. Cyanide thoughts were disrupted from Kenpachi's whistle, signaling to start the game as he and the busty Halibel seated themselves on the bleachers closest to the kicking line. The Yamada kid, not wanting to show his clumsiness out in the field, acted as the pitcher and rolled the navy foam ball at the junior that looked ready to destroy the gym.

Grimmjow waited for the precise second before kicking the ball through the air, making it go sky high. It bounced off the air conditioning vents and fell back to earth, a lanky and nimble blonde kid bouncing across the field and caught it. Kenpachi blew his whistle, not even looking up from his attendance sheet.

"Out." The female said calmly, her arms crossed over her wide chest. Grimmjow spat and his posse behind him, a short boy with bad teeth and another spindly male with greasy black hair and slanted eyes, snickered. The latter could've been in relation to Nnoitra with that face. The short boy before was wearing a white baseball cap, sideways, and couldn't keep his ugly teeth hidden behind cracked lips.

"Fuck off, Roy." Grimmjow clapped the back of the hatted boy's head, spinning his cap around. He snickered again (he could mimic Nnoitra too, apparently) and readjusted it, going up as Grimmjow went to the back of the line—and Ichigo.

Ichigo didn't want to talk to him, at all. He was focusing on the character known as Roy pull at his shoelaces to prevent the entire shoe from flying off and giving them a second out. He felt aquamarine eyes on him regardless, shifting his eyes to his left and saw the sinful smirk down at him.

"Nice kick." Ichigo said, making the smirk instantly turn into a scowl. Kurosaki got a grin on his face at being able to rile up his Algebra partner so easily, hearing a huff of frustration from the bluenet. He heard a sound similar to a 'whump' as Roy's foot collided with the foam ball, his shoe barely staying on in time for him and a girl with black curls in the running line going to first base. He reached the base easily with the girl and tightened his slack shoelaces again while the girl made sure her curls stayed in pigtails.

"Well it was better than our new girl on the team can do." Grimmjow's gruff tone cut in as they shuffled forward in line. Ichigo frowned slightly, but he was used to Grimmjow's insults and honestly, he'd done much worse than calling him a girl.

"We'll see." He said simply, watching the reedy male behind Roy saunter to first base with another girl (the running line was full of them). A few more boys made their way through the line before the bluenet decided to speak again.

"So, Berry, about that—"

"No."

"Fuckin hell, It's not like I want to take your car for a weekend in Vegas, just take yer homework for that clog-shoes' class."

"I do my homework; it shouldn't be too hard for you, right?"

"Ha, yeah right."

"Good point, since you sleep all the time or miss half the lecture for getting breakfast."

"Shuttup!" Grimmjow growled, leering down at Ichigo as the kid in front of him ran off and a few came back to home base. Ichigo smirked but went up to the plate. Hanatarou (he just remembered his name) looked him over slightly before rolling the ball surprisingly quick, the foam ball bouncing a few times on the way to Ichigo's Converse. Ichigo kicked it on the bounce, the ball popping up a couple feet before hitting the ground and rolling to Kenpachi's feet.

"Foul." He kicked it back to his team, Yamada scrambling after it. Grimmjow was snickering behind Ichigo, making his blood boil. Think of the ball like it was Grimmjow's head. That'll work. Yamada finally recovered the ball and went back to the pitcher's spot, rolling it once more—no bounces. Ichigo kicked it again, a hook to the left. It flew over their heads, just missing the ceiling, but also missed the marker on the back wall for home runs.

Still, after Ichigo deemed he couldn't get out from someone catching it, he took off to first base, a girl with black hair and big glasses following him. Reaching first base, he ran to second, dodging the throw one of the sophomores threw at him. He cursed, shouting something to the sneaky blonde from earlier. Ichigo got to third base when the tall blonde was pacing over to block his path from third back to first. With a piano-toothed grin, he handed Hanatarou the ball, and went back to his place.

"Move in, e'rybody!" He grinned when he saw Grimmjow next in line, and was promptly flipped the bird. Halibel and Kenpachi either ignored it or didn't see, but it was certainly expected of the blue-haired punk. Grimmjow still scoffed, kicking the ball fairly and ran to first base. Ichigo ducked out of the balls way as it got close to his person, then ran to first base for the second time. He nearly ran into Grimmjow, who must've been planning on stupidly running _towards _the ball just to get to second base.

"Watch it, Berry." He snorted but stood, ready for the next chance to run. Ichigo huffed, readying himself as well.

Several rounds later, the juniors were clearly ahead, easily taking out the sophomores and then getting numerous runs when they were up. By the time Kenpachi and Halibel both whistled at the same time, it was the end of class, and the juniors had won by a: we-don't-need-to-keep-score margin.

Ichigo sighed and went back over to his bag, making sure everything was in order so he wouldn't have to worry about it at lunch. He headed out of the gym, taking the opposite hallway as the students as they went towards the locker rooms, Ichigo doing his best not to look at Grimmjow. The slender blonde sophomore was currently making some smart ass comment to him, and Jeager Jaquez looked about ready to beat him into the wall. He'd seen the blonde kid every time he came to gym for his free period, but he never passed him in the hall or had class with him, so his name was a mystery. He certainly looked more like a senior rather than someone Ichigo's age.

Walking towards the cafeteria so he missed the crowd of people that would soon come, Ichigo turned the corner towards the locker bay. Walking past a few aisles of the maroon lockers, he spotted inky black hair and pale skin, his locker shut and emerald eyes were on Ichigo instantly. Ichigo stopped his walking, waving with a small smile.

"Hi Ulquiorra." He'd run into the shorter junior often and had been given permission to say his name normally.

"Kurosaki-kun," Ulquiorra nodded, he'd been given permission but didn't take advantage of it. "I need to speak with you for a moment. Can you spare the time?" He asked, quiet and calm. Ichigo nodded, walking over to the short emo boy.

"What's up?" Ichigo asked, waving for Ulquiorra to follow him towards the commons area where the lunch tables were. The boy seemed to mull things over, Ichigo had learned how to read the boys expressions—or rather lack of.

"I am hosting a party Friday evening at my house. You and one guest of your choice are invited." He said after a while. Ichigo stopped, standing next to the table he and Renji had claimed.

"A party?"

"Yes. Music, food, games, whatever you like," he dug in his pocket and handed Ichigo two, business card sized papers with an address and phone number on it. Ichigo smiled and took them; obviously they were going to serve as tickets. He wondered what kind of house the cute junior had, but from how proper he was, he could only imagine.

"Thanks!" Ichigo smiled. "I'll invite my friend Renji, and I'll make sure he'll behave."

"I would appreciate that." Ulquiorra smiled only slightly, nodding and heading to his own table in a dark, shady corner.

Ichigo was giddy—he hadn't been invited to a party that wasn't at some pizza joint for a birthday party and cake. He hoped it was as great as what he heard the troublesome students talked about, music, dancing, and lots of fun. Alcohol wouldn't be a problem with Ichigo, he preferred to stay clean.

He got a jab in the arm as his flaming red-headed friend approached.

"Yo, you allergic to sitting or something?"

"Oh shut up," Ichigo went around and sat on his side of the bench, Renji sitting across from him. "Hey man, Ulquiorra invited us both to this party Friday."

"The short, emo kid?"

"Do you meet anybody, Renji?"

"None of your weird acquaintances…" Ichigo frowned at realizing most of his new friends were all from Hueco. The same school he'd been worried sick about and the same guys that almost beat him up on the first day of school.

"Well, yes the short emo kid." He handed the card to Renji, who looked it over before pocketing it. Ichigo took that as a sign that he'd go, but Ichigo would call him anyways to remind him. Renji started going off about his Foods class that he hadn't signed up for and thoroughly despised. He apparently was getting scolded every day for staring at the blonde teacher's giant breasts even if he claimed innocence. Ichigo knew better.

"—I mean there's this guy with tattoos and black hair that stares _way _more than me." Ah, Ichigo took that as a confession. He smiled, looking to check the lunch line and see if he should join it. It had shortened, but his attention was drawn away from it right away when he saw blue orbs cutting through his sienna ones.

He gulped, trying to look away but only resulted in eye-shifting nervously. The owner of such bright blue eyes looked back down at the shorter classmate, thumbing over in Ichigo's direction. Emerald eyes and inky emo hair looked back to Ichigo before looking at Grimmjow and nodded. Grimmjow seemed to contemplate, but took a card from Ulquiorra between his fingers and wandered off.

Ichigo couldn't believe what he just saw. Whatever conversation took place, he didn't want to know. But why would Ulquiorra be talking—no, _inviting—_the guy that had nearly broken his face to his home for a party.

Kurosaki was suddenly very, very worried.

* * *

><p>AN: Longer chapter than I would have liked, but length doesn't matter, right?

R&R please. Reviews make me happiez.


	4. Chapter 4: Dog eat Dog

**Disclaimer: **Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. I do not make profit on advertising any franchises or trademarked items or business that may be placed in this fanfiction.

**A/N: **I changed the title. After three chapters, it finally got old. This is officially titled** Othello: The Tale of Two Schools.**

Getting some more English humor into it XD

There's going to be a time hop and also going to be lots of point of views! Surprise on who they are all from ;D

Thank you everyone who commented and favorite this story! I don't wanna be a comment whore, but the more reviews I receive really do help me improve.

Special shout-outs to cremekuchen (mmm…kuchen…), CloudNinjaTianzi, and Bleach-ed-Na-tsu for the fantastically fabulous reviews that made my day!

Anyways, onwards!

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Four<strong>_

_**Canis Cadem Edit**_

Narrowing his crystal orbs, Toshiro attempted to pay some attention to his class. Whatever Ichimaru was talking about, it sure was going in one ear and out the other. Hitsugaya wouldn't admit to it, but most times, we did serve as the "teacher's pet", of sorts—that one kid that told their teacher when they forgot to give them homework. All his preparations had paid off, as it seemed. Until now.

He didn't even tell him not to call him Snowy…or Snowy-kun, or Shiro, or Toshi, or…

This fifty minute class time was grueling. He felt as though the silvery teacher just had an annoying-nickname handbook tattooed behind those fox eyes just to torment him.

"Now now, t'marra ya' all will pick a book ya' wanna read for your class project: _Catcher in the Rye_ or _Fahrenheit 451_." Ichimaru's voice broke Toshiro's thoughts as the teacher rolled a marker in his bony hands. Hitsugaya usually disliked the reading assignments for the simple fact that you were put in a group and needed to review together and answer questions as such. Toshiro wasn't much of a team player when it came to homework.

The bell finally released the students from the creepy, young teacher's class. All the students stood, exiting the room quickly with their books as Hitsugaya put his binder back in his bag. Since he was distracted before the bell rang, he wasn't totally ready for class to be over; material wise, in his head—definitely ready.

"Oh, Chibi-tan," Ichimaru sing-songed and turned another page in his annoying-nickname book. "Do come here for a moment." He put the marker on the railing of the board, going to his metal desk. Hitsugaya grimaced, wanting to get out of the suffocating room as quickly as he could. Not wanting to be rude, he went in front of the teacher's desk awaiting instruction, a scowl written on his features.

"Since ya' missed the first week of school, ya need to make up the assignments by goin' ta' tutoring." Ichimaru started writing on two sheets of paper, a blue one which Toshiro assumed was the tutoring slip, and a yellow one that wouldn't get him late for his next class.

"Tutoring?" Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow. "Just give me the old assignments, I will complete them."

"Nah, they're late enough to be worth zero credit," Ichimaru's grin only stretched, unsettling the short school kid even more. "An' before ya make another excuse, Snowy-chan, you need those assignments for the curriculum. No ditchin' 'em."

Hitsugaya frowned, the nerve of this guy to assume he'd want to skip homework!

"Fine." He muttered.

"Good boy," he tore off the two pieces of paper, leaning across his desk to hand him them both. "Blue one's got yer tutoring info, yellow is so yer teacher don't kill ya'. Just be here at 3:30 next Tuesday, Snowy-chan."

Hitsugaya took the slips of paper rather bitterly, putting them in his bag before quickly shuffling out the door. He was not looking forward to having to be taught alone with that freaky excuse for a teacher. On the way down the now-empty hallways, he recovered the blue paper and read it over, sighing in relief as the next tutoring day was the next Tuesday due to teacher workshops happening this week.

Plenty of time to prepare himself.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday…<strong>

Ichigo shut his locker with his foot, his bag of gym clothes in one hand and his messenger bag in the other. He flung the latter over his neck and adjusted it accordingly, heading further down the locker bay. Upon turning the corner, he saw his spiky red-haired best friend throwing a bunch of candy wrappers and miscellaneous crap into a Wal-mart bag.

"Hey Renji, there's a garbage for that stuff, not a locker." Ichigo grinned as the tattooed boy glared at him.

"Can it, Ichigo! At least I clean it unlike that—" He stopped as a locker on the other side of Renji's shut, a very familiar, tall boy looking over down at them.

"Yeeees?"

"Jiruga freak." Renji finished and relished in the clear annoyance on the spindly boy's face. Ichigo snickered; he had to be honest that he enjoyed having a locker near the amusing held-back kid.

"Che, whatever Pineapple. While you two are out being geeks I'm goin' to a—"

"Party?" Ichigo crossed his arms, the gym bag a little uncomfortable. "Ulquiorra invited us too."

"What? Pff! I knew that!" He scoffed, his voice going a few pitches higher on the obnoxious scale.

"Right, so if you're going yer a geek too, right?" Renji put his hands in his pockets and started walking back to the commons area. Ichigo followed him, and to his amusement, Jiruga did too.

"Yeah right! Grimmjow invited me with." Ichigo gulped slightly, still curious to why the short Hueco had even invited him.

"Why'd Ulquiorra let Jeager Jaquez come too?" Ichigo couldn't stop the words from leaving his lips. Renji and Nnoitra both looked at him a little strangely, but Nnoitra answered anyways.

"Fuck if I know. We pick on the lil' shit enough an' he apparently hasn't learned to leave us alone yet."

"Well, I wouldn't want you in my house."

"Shut up, Berry!" Ichigo grinned slightly but sighed, heading up the ramp towards the main doors.

"Well I guess we'll see you later, Jiruga." Ichigo decided to be as casually nice as he usually was. Nnoitra had become that one friend you keep so you can pick on him later. But even for a tall, obnoxious, annoying…er, he was rather trustworthy when you forced it upon to him.

"Mhm, just don't get in any trouble, Strawberry." He ruffled Ichigo's hair (another unfortunate habit he'd picked up for the sole purpose of vexing Ichigo) before going outside, twirling his keys on his long, bony fingers. Renji scoffed, shifting his bag on his shoulder.

"God he's creepy."

"You're telling me, you don't have to see him multiple times every day." Ichigo didn't necessarily dislike Nnoitra's company; the tall figure just brought some uncomfortable feeling with him everywhere. Ichigo went to the bike rack with Renji; both of them living close enough to school to ride their bikes home, and Ichigo didn't want his father dropping him off every day.

The two pedaled their bikes across the school grounds, crossing the crosswalk and heading towards home. Renji lived in generally the same area as Ichigo's new family clinic, just a little closer to school. The boys chatted a little, but had decided to meet at Renji's apartment building so they could travel to the short boy's home on the other side of town. He must have lived very close by the former Hueco School.

Renji, as usual, went off about English class. Ichigo wasn't sure what so fascinating about that class (He did talk about how Kuchiki was such a dictator) but it wasn't about the lecture most times. Today, he went off about how Byakuya-sensei threw an eraser at the role-call collector. As hilarious as it was, Ichigo hadn't paid into as much detail as his friend, who started laughing at how the "noble" Kuchiki turned red in what would only be called embarrassment. Weird, but whatever.

They stopped at their crosswalk as the "Do not cross" flashed on the other side. Ichigo hit the brakes on his red and orange Magna bike. He was damn proud of this bike, even though he couldn't afford some cool car for high school, a kickass bike would get him from point A to point B. Renji's bike was infrared and had black flames over the bars. Needless to say, it was a hand-me-down from his older brother and therefore a piece of shit. It squeaked to a halt and lurched before Renji put his foot back on the sidewalk.

"C'mon bitch, work with me one day." He fondly spoke to his bicycle. Ichigo snickered, checking his phone for any messages while he waited. Rukia had a bad habit of texting him at inappropriate times about how the kids at the middle school made fun of her bunny shaped Pez dispenser and was running out of snappy comebacks.

"You love that thing don't you?" Ichigo commented flatly as he typed in his reply to Rukia.

"The love of my life. I wish Kensei would've at least taken care of it before giving it to me." The red-head replied in the same tone.

"Where's he at again?" Ichigo asked as he put his phone in his pocket, seeing the other street lights flashing, signaling it was almost time for them to cross.

"He went overseas for some army training, can't remember where, he never writes or anything." Renji shrugged it off as the crosswalk was safe to pass. He took off ahead of Ichigo, who soon followed him. Halfway across the intersection, Ichigo heard the familiar shrieking of Renji's brakes and had to stop himself so he didn't run into him.

"Yo, asshole— Red means stop!" Ichigo heard Renji snap before he looked around his friend. Directly in front of Renji and blocking the way was an electric blue 1996 Yamaha Seca, and even for how old it was, someone obviously took care of it. That person drew Ichigo's attention right afterwards.

"Well maybe you shouldn't be in my way, Red." The gruff voice from the bike said, revving the engine a little. Ichigo kicked Renji's back tire.

"C'mon Renji, don't play in traffic." He glared over at the equally electric blue Hueco student that showed up just as inappropriately as Rukia's text messages.

"Nice bike, Berry."

"Thanks, I'd say the same to you but I'm not a liar." Ichigo grinned and kicked Renji again, who mumbled and went around Grimmjow.

"Hmmph, seeya at the party, bitch." Ichigo glared back over his shoulder as Grimmjow revved it up again, seeming to threaten running him over as he went around the bike. He caught up with Renji and then blew past him, coasting down the small hill on the other side with Renji soon behind him.

"Stupid fucker," he heard Renji as they got to the bottom of the hill, speed decreasing. "He's gonna kill someone one of these days and it better not be you or me."

"Well, don't piss him off tonight and we'll live another day."

"Hmmph, I don't wanna know what idiot's telling the weirdos we're going to Ulqui…youl…"

"Ulquiorra," Ichigo corrected his friend when he tripped over his tongue. "And it's not really a secret. Question is who he wouldn't invite. He doesn't seem the type to wanna make friends or enemies."

"Yeah I guess, but he didn't ask me."

"Bet'cha he knew I'd take you."

"Well I'm flattered, now only if you'd call me every night." Renji sighed, faking exasperation and Ichigo punched him in the arm as they turned into the apartment complex. He heard a squeak and several obscenities, and without looking around he knew Renji fell into Mrs. Takenawa's rose bush again.

* * *

><p>He rubbed his temples slowly, trying to ease the throbbing that was being created by conversations behind him. A girl with extravagant black curls popped the bubbles to her gum loudly, and was tapping her foot. It wouldn't have sounded so horrible if she wasn't wearing stiletto heels and the clacking filled the entire gray room, obnoxiously. A short boy with bad teeth was snickering over <em>something <em>Ishida was sure he didn't want to know with a very lanky black-haired junior. Most of the room was filled with white-uniformed upper-classman, with the exception of Hisagi and Madarame (He couldn't remember their names) in the back. They were all accustomed to having detention, apparently.

What sickened Uryuu the most was that he'd been in detention three times since the first day of school. Today, it was because his group (consisting of the two lewd boys chattering behind him) had handed in their assignment late. Which was completely Bad Teeth's fault, considering Ishida told him to hand it in just in case, and was promptly ignored. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was just trying to find an excuse to ruin Ishida's life.

Another thing that disgusted him was the fact that every time he ended up in detention, his desk-mate Szayel Aporro managed to screw something up too, and make some big scene over it. He should've been in the drama department instead of the science wing for the show he put on today. How do you accidently spill coffee all over Kurotsuchi's desk? Even after his display of apologies and attempting to get out of detention, here he sat, calm and completely used to being in this dull room.

And completely in Ishida's space.

"—I wouldn't even begin to know how to screw up that last lab we did, Ishida. Cirucci and Roy must be some of those _special students, _yes?" The pink -haired man shifted his mustard orbs over to Uryuu once more, his chin resting on his knuckles.

"Hm." Uryuu mumbled, having tuned him out a long time ago in favor of complaining to himself about being in this situation for the third time.

"Tsk, you're such a bore today, Ishida-kun," Szayel Aporro got the trademark mad-scientist grin on his face that Ishida had gotten too used to. "Perhaps you would like to conduct an experiment with me this evening, hm? I'm sure you don't have plans on a Friday night, after all."

"Shut up! That is none of your business and I don't conduct weird experiments for fun." Uryuu snarled, locking eyes with the other. Szayel blinked once, then twice, and then sat up straight to readjust his glasses, the light from the room glaring onto Ishida's own.

"Oh, are you sure? I was certain you'd be interested in the night life…"

* * *

><p>Staring into the mirror, he squinted and put a single lock of hair back in place. It stayed momentarily, and started to sway back over his eyes. He growled, blowing it back up into its orderly, yet unruly, position. He stood up straight, fixing the collar of his shirt— nothing too fancy, but decent enough so that the emo bitch wouldn't slam the door in his face and make him go home and change. He wore a simple navy button-up shirt (the top two and bottom button left undone) with the sleeves rolled up at his elbows, and dark blue jeans that fit his figure perfectly. And definitely showed off the goods.<p>

"_Grimmjow, you sexy motherfucker." _He mumbled to the mirror and flashed himself his canines, freshly brushed. Because why the hell not, if he was going out with a chance at getting laid, he was gonna do himself up nice. He had his doubts that anything interesting would happen and Ulquiorra's, but he did say that his parents were out of town. And when he heard about a few of the people he'd invited, he was sure they'd slip something into the house.

First and foremost, he invited Grimmjow, partyer of legends, and his faithful sidekick, Nnoitra Jiruga.

Secondly, he told Shinji he was allowed to come. Shinji Hirako was a guy Grimmjow met up with outside of school once or twice before actually realizing he'd gone to school with him for a short period of time. The guy had hopped schools a lot, going to a high school in Osaka, then to Hueco, some other foreign place, to Karakura, and now in the combined building. Aside from being tall, lanky, piano-teethed, and a repeat sophomore like his butt-pirate (another fond nickname of Nnoitra's), he was known for smoking a wide variety of things Grimmjow didn't want to see outside of a police department. From what he'd heard, his sister had managed to limit him to cigarettes, but he didn't meet with the guy enough to know the truth behind the rumor.

Thirdly, he told that shark-bait berry to come. He knew Ulquiorra had some_thing _for his Algebra bitch, whether it was some gay-ass crush or just friendship; why else would he stop in the hall and clog traffic just to tell him something?

Disgusting.

He hated Ulquiorra way too much for his own good. Back in middle school, Grimmjow and Nnoitra got used to picking on the smaller boy, and he'd learned to accept it. Once reaching high school, Ulquiorra grew (slightly) in height, but also power. Their sophomore year Grimmjow pushed him out of the lunch line and Ulquiorra shoved back, refusing to give in as he had before. Grimmjow's hip hurt the rest of the week from the force he'd felt in that hit, and since, Ulquiorra hadn't laid a finger on him.

Grimmjow took it as a challenge, naturally.

Back on the topic of fruits, Ichigo Kurosaki was his Algebra bitch, and just his bitch in all aspects. Taking joy in finally having found a smaller student he could pick on for the fact he could, not for the fact he wanted to see him lash out. But Kurosaki had lashed out, the first day of school. He liked the kid for that reason, and hated him for the same.

He couldn't think of any specifics, but he definitely hated that kid.

He pushed the unruliest lock of teal hair out of his eyes as he went back to the kitchen, grabbing a soda and sitting his ass in _his_ chair. The joys of being a badass was living on his own, fending for himself, some caveman 'working for his meal' shit or something.

Oh right, he needed a job now too. Apparently saying your coworker has big tits can get you fired now-a-days. Freaking Supermarkets not being specific about their codes of conduct.

He flipped on the TV, immediately getting away from the Food Network and the like so he wouldn't think about how hungry he was. _Living on ramen seems like a plan for a student on a budget, but it sucks. _Grimmjow waited for his sidekick to make his appearance, but Nnoitra and Grimmjow were favoring being fashionably late— Or maybe being late-late, so they weren't there on time and wouldn't be those awkward people that weren't sure how to start the party.

They could start their own party, but didn't want to bring up Ulquiorra's. He hoped it wouldn't be some crazy screaming rave party with naked dudes and glowsticks everywhere. He'd still confer with Jiruga about how late to appear, and maybe make the bastard buy him some freaking dinner before this. _Never go to a party hungry and horny_, he'd learned from experience it really fucks over the weekend. He wanted to be conscious for this whole thing, picking up on anything he could use as blackmail or just as a source of entertainment. He had considered not going, until he asked emo bitch if he'd asked Kurosaki to go to the party.

After confirmation, he accepted. He wanted to see that proud kid in action, or rather, if he was actually capable of partying. He was practically a saint when Grimmjow was around, and he even kept Nnoitra in line.

_Dis. Gusting. _

_That's enough thinking about Berry. _Grimmjow concluded for himself, flipping channels and opening his can of Mountain Dew one-handed. God, he was obsessed with his "bitches" lately. He needed more friends…or at least a bi— no! Friends, go speeding down the streets and hit up a pizza place and raise some teenaged hell across the county. Sounded like some fun, but there wasn't anything to fucking do in this town when you were under twenty-one…not like Grimmjow was law abiding or anything.

He watched a repeat of Criminal Minds as he waited, sipping his drink and trying to clear his thoughts.

Just think about the party, and have fun. Fun…fun…

A knock came to the door, and was pushed open forcefully. "Yo dude, I'm fucking hungry!"

Yes, definitely fun.

* * *

><p>Ichigo's thought process was broken by Renji burping across from him, then bursting into laughter. He snickered, playing with his phone charm idly.<p>

"That was weak."

"Nah man, yer just jealous." Renji smirked, carrying the dishes away. He ordered some pizza for Ichigo and himself before the party, and Ichigo ran home to change while it was being delivered. Ichigo was now wearing a grey t-shirt with a few various designs on it, but nothing too much. The biggest attraction of the shirt that Ichigo had was a black felt-like design that went over his side and down to his hip that resembled a phoenix. Not his usual thing, but when his little sister told him about her mythology lesson: phoenixes died in fire and were reborn from their ashes. It sounded pretty awesome, and the shirt was too.

Renji came back from his room after putting away the dishes, wearing a white t-shirt with some bizarre brand-name logo of a monkey, and a maroon zippered jacket and black cuffs. He had baggy, black jeans with red, white, and black checkered belts around his waist. His fiery red hair was still tied up in the "pineapple" style when he came back down the stairs.

"Nice shorts, what good are belts if you don't use them?" Ichigo teased and Renji's cheeks blushed slightly, and then crossed his arms.

"They aren't that low, they're just long. Why're ya starin' at my pants anyways?" Now Ichigo turned bright red and crossed his arms, glaring at the TV.

"What time do you wanna go to Ulquiorra's?" He changed the subject. Renji snickered, but allowed it.

"Well, we don't wanna be there first, so how about 15 minutes past nine? We can say it took a while to find the place or something."

"It probably will take us a while." Ichigo agreed, finishing off his glass of soda. Renji, agreeing as well, straightened up his apartment while they waited. It was a small, homey place, with white walls and simple blue carpet, and tiles over in the kitchenette. It was a single, queen sized bedroom with a bathroom and shower. There was also a big closet across from the bedroom, and a short hallway that led into the open space of a couch and the television. Renji didn't decorate heavily, just a few band posters and a stereo system around the place. But even if he appeared to be lazy, Renji was a complete neat freak, and everything and anything had a place in the small apartment.

"Renji, where the hell did you put my shoes?" Ichigo asked as he went to the entryway, and his shoes were not where they were left.

"Uh, probably the closet."

"Why'd you put _my _shoes in _your _closet?" Ichigo searched the closet, Renji peering around the door to watch him as he did.

"Because they didn't match the floor mat. There they are, next to the Swiffer." He motioned, Ichigo seeing the shelf they were placed on and pulled them out. Heading to the chair, Renji started reorganizing all the stuff Ichigo "misplaced." He tugged on his black Converse shoes, tying the laces slowly, since they were in no hurry.

"You don't have to get ready now, ya know. It's only 8:45." Renji added, restocking soda in his fridge. Ichigo shrugged, continuing to tie his laces.

"Might as well get ready." He said as he started on the next shoe. He sighed slightly; he really hoped everything went alright at this party. He didn't know anyone other than Nnoitra and Ulquiorra very well, and hoped to meet a few more friends. As long as they weren't creepy.

"So, how many people you think Yora invited?" Renji asked finally, not wanting to learn to pronounce the junior's name. Ichigo shrugged, sitting up straight once more.

"We'll find out. Probably lots of people if he needed those cards."

"Yeah, but ya think he's got a big enough house for that?"

"We'll find out." Ichigo repeated with a sigh, running his fingers through abnormally orange hair. He was still thinking about how he'd need to avoid Grimmjow at that party, and any strange looking people he didn't recognize. Maybe if he was feeling a bit courageous he would talk to Jiruga, but that was a bit of a long shot.

* * *

><p>Ishida's interest had been piqued.<p>

More than likely an illogical decision to trust the senior student and want to partake in his night life experiment. Grantz had simply said they would be going somewhere where they could observe how the students of both schools collaborated in outside situations. It sounded scientific enough for him, and had accepted for the simple fact that Szayel held it over his head about being "unworthy" of working with him.

Why'd he ask him to go in the first place, then? Strange character, Szayel Aporro was. He never shared any personal information, always about the classmates he'd known previously or that were in class with them. He had let it slip once he had an older brother, but once Uryuu actually acknowledged it, he caught his error and changed the subject. Maybe he and his brother weren't on good terms, but Ishida wouldn't know, being an only child.

On topic, he was currently walking next to the tall and lean pink-haired upperclassman. He was told to dress properly, and given that's always what he did, he didn't need to do much. Szayel wore similar to what he did as well, except with a pair of form-fitting slacks and a white and black polo with a pink symbol on the side from whatever store he'd purchased it from. The only thing that wasn't semi-formal about his outfit was a "live strong" bracelet on his wrist, and pink-and-yellow low rise Converse.

Ishida followed him at an even pace; wearing clothes he probably would wear to school, needless to say: geek chic. All the way so that he still had a pen in the pocket of his button-up shirt.

"Are you ever going to tell me where we are headed, Szayel Aporro?" Ishida broke the night's silence bitterly. The upperclassman continued smiling, pushing his glasses up calmly.

"Now now, Ishida-kun, surprises are among life's joys."

"Or annoyances."

"Depending on your outlook of life, I suppose…very well, we are going to a friend of mine's." Ishida held his breath, unsure what to think of that.

"Why?" He pressed for more information, being let down as Szayel continued walking. Uryuu took his answer as an: I've already told you. Uryuu sighed, thinking a moment before rephrasing. "How about, do I know this person?"

"Mm, no, you probably do not," that started to worry Ishida now, and he frowned. "Don't worry so much, Ishida-kun, he is a junior at school that keeps to himself more often than not. That is why you have not met him." Okay, that calmed him a little, but why was in he in touch with Szayel, a recluse of a different kind, casted out for his own enjoyment and that no one wanted to be with him. This other guy seemed to withdraw willingly, afraid to be accepted…maybe nerds stuck together more than he thought.

He was still following Szayel, after all.

"We're here now, curious one." His classmate's voice broke his curious thoughts of what could be going on at this place, causing him to finally look up and see where they were. His throat dried instantly upon seeing this marble masterpiece. At least 3 floors was a decadent house with stained-glass doors and crystalline windows from balconies. Trimmed shrubberies covered parts of the pristine home's walls inside brass fences and gates, as well as a well-kept front yard. It was immaculate, and reminded Uryuu of the Hueco students and their completely clean, white uniforms but usually tainted backgrounds.

"Whoa," Ishida couldn't think of a more intelligent phrase to accurately describe what he was seeing. He heard Szayel chuckle next to him, going up to the gates and pressing a button on the brick wall. There was a low beep, a pause, and the gates opened. Grantz waltzed down the driveway, Ishida going to keep up with him. He looked back, expecting the gates to close behind them like in the movies he'd seen, but they stayed open.

"There's going to be a few more people. He might as well leave the door open for the expected." Szayel said as Uryuu started lagging behind him. The Karakura student nodded in agreement, still observing the house and all of its spectacles. Enough so where he hadn't really thought about how many people could _fit _in this house.

Or what kind of people were even inside.

* * *

><p><em>30 minutes later…<em>

"Renji I told you we should've taken that other turn."

"Well sorry, not like we walked that much farther."

"Only half a mile, one way!"

"Oh boo-hoo, we made it on time," Renji sighed, walking next to a polished fence, whistling at the house behind its barrier. "Think someone's compensating for something?"

Ichigo snickered, and pulled out the business card Ulquiorra had given him. He reread the house number again, already having done so numerous times. They walked past the last of the fence to the gate, two brick pillars keeping them steady. Ichigo stopped walking, looking back at the small, red light under a call button, and more importantly what was underneath it.

"Renji, you shouldn't tell Yora about that compensating comment." Renji stopped walking at Ichigo's comment, not having noticed his friend had ceased following him.

"What?"

"This is it."

"That place? That…Gigantic place?"

"The gates are open, so they're expecting company."

"But there's not much for cars." Renji stated, putting his hands in his hoodie's pockets. Ichigo looked around the street that was averagely covered with parked cars from neighboring homes.

"You never know. This is the number though, we might be a bit early any—" He stopped.

Renji raised an eyebrow, waving his hand in front of Ichigo's face. After blinking a few times, Ichigo looked towards the house, the lights being dim, and random flashes of color appeared in the largest window.

"…You hear that don't you?" Ichigo stepped onto the driveway, hesitant, until Renji followed him.

"I think the entire county heard that, Berry."

Music— Blaring, teenage-rage music. It pulsed through the air, instantly making the boys' blood boil. Ichigo took the lead, Renji only slightly behind him to his left as they headed towards the heavily-decorated door. Stepping onto the porch, Ichigo swallowed a lump in his throat, hoping there were some people he knew inside. He knocked twice, and Renji looked at him curiously, wondering if it'd even be heard with that booming noise.

To both of their surprise, the door opened, revealing the short host of the party. As he was in school, he was still very well kept, wearing a tight black t-shirt and black skinny-jeans, making him look even smaller than he was.

"Hi Ulquiorra." Ichigo smiled a little nervously, not waiting for Ulquiorra to greet them, since he was slightly distracted by just surveying who he was letting into his home.

"Kurosaki-kun, I'm pleased you decided to come." Ichigo's smile widened, he found it extremely hilarious that even with the scene going on around them, Ulquiorra was as formal as ever.

"Call me Ichigo, it's fine," he pressed, having told the short Hueco several times that if he was allowed call him by his first name, that he was too. "This is my friend Renji Abarai." Ulquiorra nodded to the red-head, putting the name and face to memory.

"I believe I've only heard mention of a pineapple when hearing of your friends, K…Ichigo" Ulquiorra silenced himself, locking eyes with Ichigo. Renji frowned, and Ichigo elbowed him.

"Yeah, he's the pineapple, I'm the strawberry."

"I have heard Jiruga call me a kiwi before, but I believe he gave up on such names. Please, come inside," he stepped aside in a fluid motion, Ichigo stepping into the entryway. "You do not need to remove your shoes, but I would appreciate refraining from making too much of a mess." He nodded to them and headed into the house, taking a left into the doorway with some of the lights coming from. Ichigo looked at Renji, who shrugged, deciding not to take off his jacket, and followed where the inky boy had lead.

Turning into the next room, they were greeted by a vast living room, furniture being moved to appropriate locations to make room for numerous amounts of people standing, or dancing. Ichigo didn't see any girls there, but some of the people there he recognized from school. In particular, there was that nerdy kid he'd run into on the first day of school, sitting in a corner just looking pissed off. Why would he come to a party just to sulk in a corner? He appeared to be "talking" to a tall and—god forbid—pink haired boy, as the man was talking and the other was ignoring. Ichigo couldn't remember his name either, and was a bit precautious about asking.

"Yo, Kurosaki Ichigo, right?" Ichigo jumped and looked back to the main part of the room, having a tall—maybe Grimmjow's height—blonde boy grinned down at him. Ichigo raised an eyebrow, not sure how this guy knew who he was, until remembering seeing him in gym class Monday, on the sophomore's team.

"Uh, yeah. Hi." He tried to think if he'd heard the lanky boy's name, but hadn't seen him outside of the other class, and didn't think he'd heard it while in the gym room.

"Ah, Ya dunno me." The blond tapped his chin, and Ichigo raised his eyebrow again.

"I know your face, not your name. It's hard to introduce yourself to someone that knows you." Ichigo stated, making the other get a grin on his face. His caramel eyes looked Ichigo over, sizing him up, or something, before he spoke, smiling.

"Right! My name's Shinji Hirako. Sorry 'bout that, I'm pals with Nnoi and I heard 'bout ya from him." He offered his hand to shake, which Ichigo accepted once he finished his sentence. Man, Nnoitra was creepy.

"Yeah, I know Nnoitra, super sophomore."

"Yep, me too, school sucks and all that jazz yada yada but hey; I'm just sayin' I see ya hanging out in my gym class a lot." Shinji trailed on, using his hand at the 'yada yada' part. Ichigo nodded, noticing he didn't really look like a sophomore.

"Yeah, that's my off period. How do you know Nnoitra?" He changed the topic, finding it unimportant. Shinji smiled, patting Ichigo on the shoulder and slowly ushering him to the chairs and the kitchen, where Ichigo already saw drinks.

"Nah, that's a long and unfortunate story, pal. Wouldn't want to bore you, after all," he went into the brighter kitchen, the marble countertops covered with two-liters of soda and other beverages, none of which were alcoholic. "I am interested in how you met him, though." Kurosaki looked back over at him curiously, since he'd dodged the question but wanted him to answer the same thing.

"…he's in my homeroom, and health class, and has a locker by me. I pretty much pass him in the hall all the time."

"Ah, so, if you know Nnoi and Ully, you must know Grimmy too, then?" Shinji tilted his head, while pouring a glass of punch. Thankfully, nothing was spilled.

"Uh…Grimmjow, yes." Ichigo found himself hesitant, not sure how Shinji knew Grimmjow, or that he was coming.

"Ah, honesty," Shinji smiled, taking a drink of his punch. Ichigo had begun to pour a cup of orange soda, and he halted his movement at that comment. Before he could ask, Shinji waved his hand. "Don't worry about it, I've only heard good things of you from Nnoi, and Grimmy, alike."

"…You, talking to Grimmjow? How is that good?"

"Not directly, I haven't seen him since last year. Nnoi tells me a lot about what he and his friends talk about. Grimmy seems to talk often of ya," Ichigo gulped at hearing that, he really couldn't imagine how that'd be good. "Don't believe me, huh? Well, ask 'im yerself." Shinji gave a piano grin, drinking his punch. Just then, Ichigo heard the faint noise of the front door shutting, and ridiculous snickering that was all too familiar. Kurosaki gulped, looking into his orange glass, imagining seeing his reflection in the drink that would match his hair, his skin pale, and eyes wide.

Grimmjow and Nnoitra were here, and Shinji obviously knew something that he didn't.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry for procrastinating! I did much of this in my new college dorm, so obviously, I'm going to be busy doing homework and other things =[ I really gotta work on a few deviantart works now…and homework for Monday eheh…

Thanks for reading, enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5: Actions, not Words

A/N:

I apologize for slow chapters; college has been really kicking my ass.

Anyways, onwards: Still accepting pairing requests (none with characters that already have pairings, obviously).

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Five<strong>_

_**Gesta non verba**_

"Why are we here." He stated, not asked, sourly.

"As I said, we're studying human relations," Szayel grinned to his colleague with the creepy, shit-eating grin he could have only learned from that blue-haired junior in the hallway. "Drink your punch." Ishida was none too thrilled with sitting in this dark corner while scary, gothic people began entering the vast living room that was now converted into a party room. A few girls dressed provocatively were talking to each other, something about whoever else was coming to the event. He was not looking forward to this night, at all.

The door opened with a clack as it hit the wall uncaringly, the person walking in already spouting off some foul choice-words to the doorkeeper—that short, emo boy. From the entryway leading into the main dance hall he saw the extremely tall, lanker fucker that he'd spied with the blue-haired freak (who appeared behind him, go figure) and even Szayel Aporro. The tall guy was the one spouting, the blue-haired one behind him had his hands in his jean pockets, either annoyed or expecting something else to happen.

Ishida adjusted his glasses over his nose, glaring into the depths of his tropical-fruit punch with stoic and searing hatred he would rather not unleash upon the world. He shifted slightly when he saw Szayel stand and head over to the new entrants. He pat the even-taller-than-him male on the arm and mouthed something Ishida could only assume to be "calm down." The blue-haired one scoffed, looking around the room adjacent to him before his eyes set on Uryuu, recognizing him. Uryuu gulped, holding his gaze for only an instant when the electric orbs shot away from him and to the other end of the room.

He hesitated to follow the Hueco's eyes, but upon looking he wasn't sure why he'd attracted the bulky blue man's attention. It was the boy that had bumped into him in the stairwell (he was sort of hard to miss with that hair), but he thought that those two were enemies. He hoped a fight or something wouldn't break out. Looking back at the orange-haired teen across the room, Uryuu saw he was a bit frozen with aqua orbs trained on him. He saw the orange kid look at him for an instant, and immediately averted his eyes from the two, looking back at his punch, but looking out of the corner of his eye every once in a while. He couldn't help but notice a few other sophomores appearing in the door, one of which he wasn't sure of.

* * *

><p><em><span>A few hours earlier…<span>_

He was _pissed._

Toshiro Hitsugaya was known to get pissed off at everything, but today was a special day of pissed-off-ness. Tutoring was anticipated to be as noxious as the locker rooms in middle school, but not nearly as suffocating. Ichimaru-sensei had pulled a desk in front of Toshiro's, the ends touching and making one desk, and he was of course staring at him with slanted eyes and silly grin. And the manner that the teacher spoke with wasn't helping his learning process at all, considering English was not his forte with that wacky accent of his. How did he manage to get a job _teaching _this class?

Even worse, Ichimaru had physically hunted him down during lunch to re-schedule his tutoring session to…right now.

"Souuu… now we jus' gotta git'ya caught up on this paper due nex' week," Ichimaru mused, seeming to be bored with having to do this too, but Toshiro was sure it was just to try easing the tension that sparked between their desks. "It's persuasive, so ya can pick any topic that isn't abortion."

"Hmmph, or gay marriage." Toshiro muttered under his breath, as he had usually been doing to answer his teacher. Ichimaru only smiled, increasing the creeper factor.

"Nah, tha's fine. They're fascinatin' to read," Hitsugaya raised a snowy eyebrow at that but was distracted by another grading rubric being put in front of him. "There ya go, that'll be 'nuff for today, yea? I know ya like hangin' out with me, but we better git goin'." Ichimaru's grin turned nearly sinister in width, making Hitsugaya cringe.

"I'm fine leaving, Ichimaru-sensei, I'm not easily heartbroken." He scoffed, gathering his papers and aligning them by tapping the bottom on his desk. Ichimaru chuckled a little in his throat but glided out of the desk and pushing it back into its position.

"I see…well, same time Monday, Snowy-chan." He waved as the snowy boy was heading out of the room as fast as he could without looking like he was hurrying—and he most certainly was. Hitsugaya stair-skipped down the tall steps leading up to the room, taking a right at the bottom to reach an alternate exit than the one he'd normally take.

"That was a waste of my life…" Toshiro muttered under his breath, escaping outside to the cloudy, almost dreary weather. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder, taking the sidewalk towards his grandmother's house and as far away from the silvery teacher as he could be.

He smirked cattishly, his hands folded in his sleeves in a prancing position while he hopped about the room, straightening it. Ichimaru just loved his job, more so because he could actually pick on people that would either think he was funny, or stay their distance.

At least the smart ones would.

He finally got the room neat and tidy, as he preferred, and locked the door while skipping down the steps. His friend and associate Sousuke was out of town for the weekend, and he needed to keep himself amused somehow, no matter how trivial. He had heard some whispering rumor about a party this weekend at someone's house while their parents were away, and he was completely intrigued at this notion. And he knew exactly the student to confer with. He walked out of the school towards the parking lot, taking his time while he surveyed the grounds in slanted vision, finally finding what he had been looking for.

"Heya there, Jaggy-kun." Ichimaru immediately rested his arms and elbows on the handlebars of the fluorescent blue of Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez's motorbike. The electric-blue teen only scowled, not enjoying Ichimaru's presence this close to him (like many).

"Ichimaru-_sensei._ What do you need now?" He inquired, sounding just as irritated as his constant scowl showed.

"Mah…I heard 'bout some party ta'night…why wouldn't my Jaggy tell me somethin' like that?" He tilted his head, making a face similar to a sad kitten, or in this case, fox. Grimmjow only continued giving his scowl, but slightly more uncomfortable.

"Don't call me that, teach. I ain't tellin' you nothing when ya told the school 'bout the last one."

"Oh, I hav'nt the slightest o' what yer talking about."

"Whatever, you told Hirako last year that if ya went to one more student party ya'd lose yer job for not reportin' it," Grimmjow smirked, starting his bike. "Make yer own party." Ichimaru's grin sunk, making a creased line where the creepy curve of a smirk usually rested.

"I intend ta', then. Don't do anythin' too reckless, my Jaggy." He ran his long, bony fingers through unruly blue locks, ruffling the mess into a bigger mess.

"Don't fucking touch me, you sex offender!" Grimmjow smacked his hand off, revving the bike engine as a threat to get the teacher to remove himself. Ichimaru put his hands up before him, smiling.

"Violent! I'm goin', officer, I'm goin'." He stepped out of the way of the biker, who took off down the street to prepare for his evening. Grinning, the fox-like man went to his car: A 2008 Pontiac GTO, the license plate saying "KITSUNE". It was his ex-girlfriend's idea, and he agreed to shut her up just because he thought it was too girly. It grew on him, however, even if she and her enormous breasts didn't. He shivered at the thought again, sure they'd been friends and of course _worked _together now, but that didn't mean he had to like her t_hat much. _Ichimaru was cold in more ways than one, and Rangiku's warm, hospitable, and sexually enthusiastic attitude clashed with his way of doing things the way he liked.

But off of thinking about her now, he just wanted to get out and crash a few kids' parties. They were amusing to watch, especially when alcohol was involved. There was only that time Grimmjow was referring to when he reported it, since Shinji Hirako had brought illegal drugs into it, and he couldn't let that slide. He had _some_ standards after all. He slid into his comfortably leather seats, shutting the door of his car and sinking into the buckets while his car started. The song began where it had left off; "So Cold" by Breaking Benjamin was always a song he'd favored when driving on a colorful morning. Others may think of it as a depressing, cloudy-day song. For Ichimaru, it was a good song for a depressingly bright day.

He drummed his long fingers on the steering wheel, debating his destination. Of course he wanted to scout out anything that would occupy his time on a Friday night more than NCIS reruns and microwave dinners. He put his vehicle in drive, gracefully exiting the parking lot and veering onto the street towards home, deciding that if he were to discover anything else about ridiculous under-aged partying, he could at least change out of his school attire. Many times before he'd snuck into college parties and asked if he shared classes with the others there. Ichimaru didn't go to these social events to socialize anyways, he just enjoyed observing.

Taking a shortcut towards his home, he happened to spot a flash of white hair down the sidewalk and taking steps into a modest wooden home that was probably owned by someone that had owned it for a very long time. Gin smirked, stuck at a red light at a wonderful time. He'd never hear the end of it if the short boy noticed that the two lived nearby each other, but he wasn't going to have him notice him now was he? Toshiro got to the top of the wooden porch that was in need of minor repairs and pulled the screen door open. After that he seemed to have to push the white door with his entire body to force it open, a skill he'd probably learned to do without any pain.

The car behind Ichimaru's honked its horn suddenly, jolting him from his dream-like state. Ice-blue eyes whipped back from the inside of his home to the street, where Ichimaru had stopped paying attention to the light. Cursing, Ichimaru sped back down the street, taking the next turn towards his house. Muttering bitterly, he flipped the bird back to the man in the Prius behind him that had to go and ruin his creeping time. Toshiro has first appeared curious before turning livid at noticing the easily-distinguishable Ichimaru behind the wheel of an equally distinguishable car, and Ichimaru couldn't get the grin off his face.

* * *

><p><em><span>Present time…<span>_

Ichigo forcefully averted his eye from the doorway, feeling like if he continued facing the electric blue Hueco the moment would get even more awkward. Scratch that, it was _painfully _awkward as he looked back into his cup of orange soda and still felt the complimentary blue watching him. A few moments passed before a wiry arm slid over his shoulder and looped around his neck, pulling him closer to the person that's arm was now wrapped around him. He gasped, almost spilling his drink as he glared up at a slant-eyed snake. "Yo, Berry. Ya actually showed, huh?" Nnoitra hissed, getting a grin on his face, obviously teasing. He was wearing a simple, long white hoodie and his flat raven hair splayed over his shoulders. His jeans were tight and fit the smallest curves of his form and a few bulky studded belts of reds and blacks adorned his thin waist. Ichigo frowned, making a face.

"Duh." He couldn't think of a more intellectual response and instantly regretted replying at all as Nnoitra got that sick smirk on his face that he only had when he felt he'd gained the upper-hand.

"What, Pineapple drag you here? Or maybe limey boy there?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow, going to look in the direction Nnoitra was referring to when a second arm went over his shoulder, laying on top of Jiruga's arm to grasp the other side of Ichigo's nape.

"Neh neh, Nnoi-teme, you still abuse people don't ya?" Shinji Hirako's grin mirrored Jiruga's, until the latter's inverted. Ichigo turned livid, trying to slide his head out from under their arms, but Shinji had intentionally interlocked the spindly men's arms so his escape was much more improbable.

"Hirako..!"

"Pssh, I only bug him cuz you fugged off. Seriously, how do we both get stuck back as sophomores and never see ya. Ya never even call me ya know." Jiruga teased, keeping the frown on his face to promote a serious tone he was not known for. Shinji grinned right back, leaning more on Ichigo with feint guilt.

"Ahh, sorry Nnoi, ya just weren't my type…"

"Skinny shit, no one's yer type." Nnoitra jeered, glaring at Shinji fully, and of course was in Ichigo's space.

"Lanky fucker, yer one to talk," Hirako jabbed back, practically resting his chin on Ichigo's spiky, bleached head. Nnoitra's already narrow eyes practically squinted as he observed the blonde's grin. They both seemed to glare at each other for quite some time, Ichigo still trying to find a way to slide out of their grasps. Shinji finally clapped him on the back, ceasing his escape attempts. "So, Ichigo, why don't ya tell us who ya like more, me or that ugly rat." He thumbed up to Nnoitra, who huffed.

"More like me, the sexy mofo, or him, the limey with the bad-teeth."

"I'm not even British…"

"Uh, guys," Ichigo looked between them. "Why do I have to—"

"Shut up and pick, Berry." Nnoitra's grip on his shoulder tightened, Shinji's doing the same.

"C'mon Ichi, all in good fun. I'll make it worth yer while if ya pick me." He leaned down exceptionally close, speaking in his ear and caused a shiver to go down Ichigo's spine.

"I…well…pick—" He gulped. Why was he acting this way? Ichigo was never stuck for words, but having two tall, older men completely trapping him set something in his flight methods haywire. He certainly didn't want one or the other to become upset at him, especially since he'd only just made acquaintances with Shinji, but if he chose Shinji, who knew what would come from that. He stopped mid-thought as he had both males' eyes boring into him, as well as an extra set that had assimilated before him. "Grimmjow…"

The two tall one's eyes widened and stood back up straight, releasing Ichigo from their tight hold. "Yo, Grimmy!" Shinji smiled, Ichigo still catching something nervous behind the friendly gesture. Grimmjow nodded, acting aloof with his hands in his pockets. Ichigo was trying really hard not to look over the bluenet's attire, instead backing away to get a refill of his drink that he hadn't drank much from. Shinji went on bullshitting with the blue-haired young man while Ichigo saw Nnoitra make glances at him from the counter. Not able to resist, his ears blocked out the booming music from the next room to listen to the three behind him.

"—just havin' a chat, really." Shinji's voice hit his ears first, and a gruff mumble from Grimmjow.

"Yeah, right. I heard that comment ya' horny fucker."

"Whatcha mean?" The cheery blonde replied before shutting up, Ichigo hearing a scuffle. Slowly turning he saw Grimmjow grab the blonde by the front of his shirt, ready to knock his piano-like teeth out until Nnoitra caught sight of him looking. Jeagerjaquez slid his eyes over to Kurosaki, who must've looked confused as hell, before he released the taller boy, who also breathed an overly-exaggerated sigh of relief. It was awkwardly quiet with the loud party rockers only a few feet away before Nnoitra took count of where all three of them were looking, putting a case of Bud on the table between them all.

"So, I snatched this from the old man before leaving. You drink, Berry?" Oh, how smooth of him to change the topic. Ichigo was fine with it for once. Nnoitra obviously had more sorts of drinks with him, judging by the backpack he had on the floor by the table's stools.

"No, I don't." He replied, finally peeling his eyes away from aquamarine. Jiruga rolled his visible eye, the other still being covered by his sleek, pitch black hair. He started getting the smirk over his face, which had become a common sight within the week of him being around Ichigo. For an idiot, Nnoitra could rarely hide that he had concocted a plan.

"Want to start?"

"Not really." Ichigo, unfazed, shrugged. He frowned again, part of his teeth still showing in the grimace.

"Pussy, why the hell not?"

"Drinking looks like a waste of time."

"Coming from the alcoholic virgin."

"Coming from the hopeless guy." Ichigo retorted. Not even hopeless romantic, Jiruga couldn't even spell romantic if he was reading a dictionary. He heard a snort from behind him, more than likely from Shinji. Nnoitra glared across to them and huffed.

"Well, fine. But ya better watch it Berry. I've made it my personal mission to get you fucked-up this year."

"Well aren't I honored, Captain." Another giggle came from behind him, definitely Shinji. Earning a dark frown and occasional eyebrow twitch from Nnoitra, Ichigo turned and exited the kitchen, spotting Grimmjow with a grin on his face next to Shinji. That still worried the hell out of him.

Returning to the dance floor, his eyes practically widened. The huge living room that had been cleared out was packed full of people, the center being an indistinguishable pit of bodies much too close to one another. He went around the outer ring, avoiding the crazy people that had broken away from the main crowd to begin their own circle. On closer inspection, there were plenty of people just standing around and chatting, bouncing to the music gently with their drinks. Couches and chairs lined the ends of the enormous room, and Ichigo was only a little surprised to see his red-headed friend standing by an occupied couch with a few Karakura students. Ichigo went over and stopped by his shoulder, Renji looking up and nodded, not wanting to interrupt a tall, shiny-headed senior from telling his tale. Also around the piece of furniture was a black haired kid with a few tattoos littered over his neck and face, the red-headed Inoue girl Ichigo remembered from middle school, and another average height male with a few-too-many accessories in his hair. A few others were in the vicinity, but none that Ichigo could recognize as kids from any classes he had.

"Matsumoto-sensei said she'd be coming, after all."

"Well, I don't really doubt that she would, but why would Ully invite her?" the effeminate male said, leaning over the back of the couch to hear the bald one talking from the center couch cushion.

"Like he'd tell her to get out, she'd threaten reporting him."

"She's kind of a bitch that way," Renji threw his comment in, the red-headed girl not saying anything from her spot next to the baldy. The latter nodded, looking over at Renji before raising an eyebrow at Ichigo. "Oh, this is my friend I told you about, Ikkaku." The prematurely bald guy still gave Ichigo that look before the orange-haired male gave a short nod.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Oh, right. Sorry; I just saw ya talking to that Shinji kid."

"Yeah, I got a class with him." Not a complete lie—he just was in the same gym as Shinji was. Renji looked back over to the kitchen, leaning over conspicuously to see who Ikkaku was referring to, Ichigo giving him a nudge in the side. He grumbled, giving him a look but spotted who he'd intended to, looking away from the kitchen quickly.

"Jesus, that blond kid? And apparently Nnoitra and the rabid dog are here." Ichigo rolled his eyes. Renji was used to giving Grimmjow some sort of wild animal nickname; no matter how often Ichigo told him he reminded him more like a cat. Lax, hissy, and a fuck-all attitude.

"Yeah, Nnoitra snuck in a case." Ichigo reported to his friend, who had assumed he would try something like that. Ikkaku and the tattooed kid both looked at Ichigo before each other, standing.

"Talk to ya later, Red."

"Later, Shuu." Renji half-waved to the tattoo covered male, getting a smirk before they both entered the kitchen. Ichigo raised an eyebrow, and when Renji looked back at him he batted his eyelashes a few times before getting socked in the arm, Ichigo laughing.

"C'mon _Red, _just teasing!"

"Shut up, man. Shuuhei ain't like that. And I sure ain't! 'Sides, what about your boyfriend in there that gave me the evil-eye."

"What?" Ichigo asked, genuinely confused when Renji rolled his eyes as response. "Spit it out!"

"Jack in there was lookin' over here when I checked who Ikkaku was talkin' about. Scared the shit out of me." Ichigo glanced back at the doorway, not fully. Is that why Renji looked away so suddenly? Renji sure gave up on pronouncing the Hueco's names, too. Jeagerjaquez was now Jack.

"Well, that's weird."

"Yer telling me," he sighed. "Say, you going to take anything from Nnoitra?"

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't trust him being drunk, let alone getting anyone else drunk with crap from his place."

"Well, I dunno, I thought we could always _try_ it." Ichigo glared at his friend, who just shrugged.

"You know I hate that fucking shit." Ichigo spat back at his friend, who shrunk and looked away, nodding.

"Sorry."

"Don't," Ichigo muttered, moving around to sit on the couch, his cup of orange soda empty and the plastic cup getting crushed in his grip. "We'll leave if shit gets too crazy here," he released his grip on the plastic, the popping sound breaking the beat in the music for a moment. Renji didn't say anything, just watching his friend slowly get to his feet. "I'm getting another soda, want one?"

"No, I'm okay." Renji said as Ichigo had already started to walk away, sighing to himself.

Ichigo re-entered the kitchen, walking around the group of people with different cans or cups of mixed drinks, just grabbing the two-liter of orange soda.

"Yo Ichi, I wouldn't if I were you," he jumped, looking over as Grimmjow had snuck up to his side. Frowning, he glanced back at the bottle before back up at him. "Nnoitra spiked it for ya."

"How kind of him." Ichigo said bitterly, not even able to hide it. Raising another eyebrow, Grimmjow walked to the stainless-steel fridge and withdrew a 24-ounce bottle of Sunkist.

"Here, what's your problem now…bitch." He seemed to add that after a moment, the hesitation still catching Ichigo's attention. He took the bottle from him, twisting the cap and was satisfied to be breaking the seal himself.

"Thanks, but I don't have a problem."

"Tsk, yer such a crap liar."

"Well, yer a crap Algebra student."

"Not my fault when you say you won't gimme yer homework, you do anyways." Ichigo glared back up at the blue-haired, feline-resembling junior that only grinned. "So…spill."

"None of your business."

"I've gotten shot down worse than that."

"I just don't like the idea of drinking, is all."

"Well neither do I, but I don't go around snapping at my best friend over it." Ichigo's eyes widened and he looked back over at Grimmjow, who had taken a seat at the stool next to Ichigo. Grimmjow just shrugged, half lidded eyes kind of glancing back to where the couch was easily visible from where he was seated.

"…drunk people piss me off."

"Eh, that's better I guess. Why?"

"That _is_ none of your business." He took a drink, still having Grimmjow's serious eyes on him, making him turn away from where he could see him, preferring to drink his soda in peace.

"Alright alright fine, better hang away from Jiruga and Shinji for the night then."

"I'll see how well that works out."

"Good. Ulquiorra is the only person that should frown at a party, anyways." Ichigo raised an eyebrow before his hair got ruffled by a strong, large hand. Swatting it off, Grimmjow snickered while Ichigo retreated back out to the couch, trying to straighten the spikes on his head. Sitting back down, Renji must have been dragged into another pod of people, or went willingly with how Ichigo had talked to him. He sighed, just getting comfortable on his side of the couch he spun the cap of his bottle until he felt the couch sink. Glancing back over, he was going to tell Renji he was sorry when he practically leapt back at the sight much too close to him.

Leaning into his personal space was an average-built young man dressed entirely in white, even his hair was shock white and his skin must've been close to it, or at least the dark room made it look like it had a glow about it, like shirts under black-light. More shocking was the fact he had highlighter-yellow eyes boring right into Ichigo's and they were surrounded by pitch-black sclera, instead of the normal white. Leaning away from the started Kurosaki, Ichigo could only stare at this mysterious person that looked like…himself.

"Hey," he grinned, teeth just about as white as the rest of him, voice only an octave or two higher than Ichigo's. "Kurosaki, hm?" the young man in question slowly nodded, still stunned and the other took clear recognition of that.

"Do I…?"

"Nah, ya don't know me. I just heard 'bout ya. It's creepy, huh…" his pale hand and black nails brushed part of Ichigo's bright orange hair away from his forehead. "We're like copies…like a color printer ran out of ink when I came 'round." His joke was only slightly funny, more so cruel to himself being an albino.

"…Sure." Ichigo was blocked from leaning further away by the arm of the couch he'd almost sat himself on from the initial surprise the other had given him.

"My name's Shirosaki Hichigo, just Shiro works," Ichigo swallowed, even their names? This was too weird, he vaguely wondered if this other was really sitting next to him. "S'really weird, Ichigo. Ya have no idea how weird."

"I got a pretty good idea." Officially creeped out, he tried standing when Shiro grabbed a belt loop, tugging him back onto his ass with a swift tug. Gods, he was strong.

"Oh c'mon I'm just kiddin'. Aren't ya curious? I wanna know 'bout ya, and you wanna know 'bout me. I can tell— really good at readin' people." Not only did Shiro enjoy talking, he sure talked weird too. He couldn't have grown up in the same area Ichigo had. Even if they looked alike, Shiro was way too fucking close for comfort. Ichigo still tried situating himself in a different position to at least get some distance between them. He wasn't monumentally successful, only getting a couple inches gain under Shiro's notice. He finally leaned back a bit and let Ichigo take a breath. Deciding he should probably humor the albino, or face more heckling for the rest of the evening, Ichigo looked back over at him.

"You're a sophomore, right?"

"Nope, Junior." Good, at least they didn't have the same birthday or some shit.

"Oh," he couldn't think of another question, Shiro giving him another slanted grin, almost threatening to ask something himself if Ichigo didn't initiate one himself. "How'd you hear about me, then?"

"Grimm talks 'bout ya a lot," he shrugged, making Ichigo grimace. _Shiro, too? _How many people actually knew him thanks to the blue-haired Hueco? "Guess ya've heard that already. That's weird."

"Really weird…" Ichigo finished for him, certain he'd probably emphasize that fact once more. Shiro nodded, a grin still written on his face.

"Oi, Shiro!" Another obnoxiously high voice broke in through the songs rapid bass, drawing the look-alikes attention to the archway of the kitchen. A smile crept across his face and he sprung off the couch.

"Hey, Nnoitra ya stupid pile." Ichigo got a half smile, of course even Nnoitra's friends insulted him. The tall, black haired boy did appear to have already taken a few drinks—he probably had a low tolerance because of his size, even if he was so tall he was thin as hell.

"I'm tryin' ta tell Grimm to show his Moves like Jagger."

"Grimm does have Moves like Jagger, his name is Jeager!"

"Shut the hell up." Ichigo heard Grimmjow mutter lowly, almost missing it with the rumbling music surrounding him that matched the low tenor. The rest of the conversation took place deeper in the kitchen, too far away for him to hear. Observing the dancing groups of people, he had yet to find Renji in the mass. Well, maybe hanging out in the kitchen wouldn't be as bad as sitting alone in a dark, music-filled room. Though then he risked Jiruga and Shinji's antics…

Sitting for another 15 seconds made his mind up. He stood, reentering the kitchen that had started its own party. Everyone had found Nnoitra's stash from his backpack and mixed their own beverages together into plastic cups and were lingering around the room. He even saw that pink-haired guy taking two glasses from the counter, sneaking away from the others with a smirk plain on his face. The two girls from Ichigo's English class were hanging around Ikkaku and Shuuhei, the latter looking more-or-less disgusted at their state while Ikkaku was gung-ho. A busty woman had also taking drinks, leaning off her stool nearby the pair of students. She was too old to be a student herself, surely, but not too much. Ulquiorra was still nowhere in sight, unaware to the mess his kitchen was becoming.

"That was fast, huh." Ichigo muttered, surprised to hear a grumble of agreement to his left. Grimmjow had leaned himself up against what must've been a pantry door to avoid any people going back for more drinks.

"Told ya you shoulda stayed out."

"Yeah, well, Renji found somebody he knew or something, can't find him. And Nnoitra pulled Shiro back in here," Ichigo didn't hear a reply from Grimmjow, looking over he saw that the other had averted his eyes, having a guise similar to a pout. "So, who else do you talk to about me, huh?"

"The fuck did that come from?"

"Well, Shinji, Shiro…"

"Whatever." He stood back up, pacing away from the door. Ichigo frowned, following him.

"You're a crap liar!" He quoted him, getting a glare from the blue-haired man that was nearly dangerous.

"Why can't I talk about people, huh? Nnoitra talks about ya, your friend does, why can't I? There a law against it?" Ichigo figured he had a good point there, not good enough in his book though.

"No, still pretty weird if Shinji tells me to talk to you, or Shiro says you told him we looked alike. Really weird." He shook his head at the thought, unintentionally repeating that line he'd already used against the creepy albino.

"I don't talk to Shinji much, even less tell 'im what to do."

"For not talking to him much he sure hears a lot from you." Ichigo had already moved in front of Grimmjow, who had his hands in his pockets but was keeping his eyes more so on the group of drinkers in the room than the shorter sophomore blocking his escape route. Ichigo huffed, turning away. "Whatever, then." He turned away, not going to get anything out of Grimmjow, of course. He sure had to get that out of his system though. He'd only known Ichigo for a week and he was talking about him like they were old friends. Not that Ichigo could complain, really, he sure talked to Grimmjow like they were friends. The pantry door creaked open, hardly catching Ichigo's attention until he heard something clatter and getting a strong shove on the shoulder. He yelped (totally masculine, by the way) and was sent into the decently-sized pantry. Falling back against a shelf, he was about to chew someone out when he saw Shinji do the gayest gay-wave to him, his fingers waggling when he did before shutting the pantry's door. Snarling, he reached around for a cord to turn on the light bulb he could barely make out above him. He heard another growl, his hand jerking in surprise and brushing against a thin string. Pulling sharply, the dingy light came back on and Ichigo noticed he wasn't exactly stuck on a shelf ledge.

"Shinji, I'm gonna tear you a new asshole!" Grimmjow roared behind him, his vocal cords being close to Ichigo's ear in this position. His face turned bright red, realizing that the shelf he'd be seated on was instead Grimmjow, who had been shoved in before him, or more specifically: his lap. The door clicked, someone obviously figuring out how to lock the small door that Ichigo had really hoped hadn't had a lock installed on it. The position was awkward, Grimmjow having fallen clumsily Ichigo wasn't sitting on him perfectly, at more of a decline that he'd need to use more leverage and balance than he had available to get out.

"Sorry…" Ichigo had to mutter, since his whole bodyweight was practically on the other, and he didn't really want to take notice of the fact he was pressed up against his solid chest.

"Ch…" Grimmjow rumbled, making Ichigo swallow. He reached up and grabbed a shelf just barely, trying to pull himself up when Grimmjow resituated himself better too, making his grip slip and his attempt of removing himself from the other fail. "Well, get off." Grimmjow said once in a better position, his tone darker and hiding something else while Ichigo nodded, also trying to ignore the fact he felt the other's breath by his ear. Pushing all thoughts aside he grabbed the shelf again, having to pull himself up along Grimmjow first to remove himself from the slumped position he'd fallen into, hearing a suppressed groan from Grimmjow. "Alright quit it!" He spat, making Ichigo freeze.

"What?" He felt stupid for asking of course, having already kept himself focused on ignoring how it felt when Grimmjow's arm went around his waist and lifted him up, the other having gotten enough space to pull himself up—doing the same with the smaller student against him. Gulping, Ichigo was steady on his feet, Grimmjow's arm hanging around his waist for a moment before sliding off him. The pantry was much more cramped now that they were standing, probably built for smaller sized people. Ichigo didn't say anything until Grimmjow's arm and hand was completely off him, the latter having been lingering by his side a bit too long. Both were quiet, not sure who should say something first until Ichigo moved, trying the door handle.

"He locked it." He commented simply, guessing that Grimmjow nodded behind him. Both stayed quiet again, Ichigo's back still to the taller of the two.

"Sorry for talking about you," Ichigo blinked and looked back at an apologetic looking bluenet. "Guess not everybody likes that, so sorry."

"…It's not a big deal." He replied with a nod, still accepting the unexpected apology.

"If it helps, it wasn't anything bad."

"…I guess it does."

The small space was quiet again. Ichigo swallowed, before chuckling a little, earning an eyebrow raise from Grimmjow.

"What?" Ichigo caught a tone in his voice that might've been worried, perhaps thinking he was laughing at him.

"Eh, this kinda reminds me of that game kids did at slumber parties, whatever it's called." It was quiet for a few more moments before he heard Grimmjow shift.

"Seven minutes of heaven."

"Yeah, that one."

Silence. Ichigo took in another deep breath when a strong grip came over his arm and spun him around, almost causing him to trip over his tangled feet. Opening his mouth to give a retort, he was silenced by the look on Grimmjow's face. His mouth was still partially agape, words still in his throat but hadn't come out yet. When the blue-haired junior didn't say anything, Ichigo did.

"What?" Grimmjow probably would have raised an eyebrow, but instead lessened his grip on Ichigo's arm and leaned further down, pressing his lips against Ichigo's. _What? _Ichigo's eyes widened, going to put his hands on Grimmjow's shoulders in a sorry attempt to push him away when he found himself kissing the larger man back. He felt his back hit one side of the pantry wall, slightly uncomfortable but he didn't give a shit. Grimmjow kissing him was way too important right now. Grimmjow was only taken aback by his participation only for a second, Ichigo feeling him get that dead sexy smirk before deepening his kiss and gave Kurosaki's lower lip a nip with his sharp canines.

He winced at the bite, leaning away just slightly from the sting when he heard the door next to them click. Grimmjow heard it too, looking at Ichigo before the length of the pantry was suddenly between them. Light flooded the small space and gave the menacing shadow of the five and a half foot tall inkblot of a young man, his emerald eyes reading both of them in an instant.

"…should I even question as to why you were locked in my pantry." He mulled to himself, his eyes sliding to Ichigo and more specifically his mouth. He jolted again and wiped blood off of his cut lip with the back of his hand, forcing his breathing to be steady.

"Shinji locked us in." Ichigo said as an answer, Ulquiorra obviously not wanting to talk to Grimmjow. He stepped back, Grimmjow slinking out and automatically on the hunt for the thin blonde, Ichigo slowly exiting and careful not to make eye-contact with Ulquiorra.

He still felt verdant eyes tearing at the back of his head up until the door behind him slammed.

* * *

><p>AN: DONE. 4k words written over vacation, chyeah.

Massive thanks to wonderful reader **Moonlight and Stardust **for leaving a spectacular comment and made me realize I was a lazy buttpile. So here's a treat for you all. Still up for any suggestions for the story!


	6. Chapter 6: With due Respect

A/N: I'm being naughty. I haven't posted my Pokémon chapter as of yet and I probably have homework I've forgotten about.

Thank you all for your amazingly spectacular reviews! I've got the gears turning…sort of. Insert new character perspective.

Onwards.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Six<strong>_

_**Data Venia**_

Ichigo escaped back to the dance floor, escaped being used heavily. The kitchen was full of loud, destructive men (and a few women, surely) heartily partaking in the festivities. The term B.Y.O.B was easily dismissed as more and more people found Nnoitra's stash, and a few others'. The smell of alcohol wafted into the dance floor where everything had either gotten far out of control or had turned into the exact thing Ichigo thought it would become. Maybe he expected both. As long as he didn't see any more skin that public decency laws would allow he couldn't get upset. He saw that clone of his slink off into the kitchen like a freakish Albanese snake, slithering along with some sick thought on the mind. Speaking of sick thoughts…

Ichigo felt drunk. Absolutely overcome with a flurry of slurred thoughts and emotions that wouldn't normally come from him. He wouldn't say it was necessary _girly _to be obsessing over this sort of thing but it bothered the hell out of him. He was drunk with the thoughts of the broad-shouldered junior in the pantry. He was drunk with the feeling of rough hands suddenly on him, then chapped, skilled lips over his own. It was disorientating. He was amazed he'd been able to move as the door opened…or maybe it was Grimmjow throwing him back that really shook him out of the stupor. Or Ulquiorra's dry, continually sour expression.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, going back to the couch he'd previously occupied with his red-haired companion. He was still there, Shuu and the others having gone on towards the better times in the kitchen. Renji looked over at Ichigo as a glass shattered in the next room.

"Hey, what's got you spooked?" Ichigo nearly jumped, rubbing the back of his neck with his clammy hand.

"Spooked? I'm alright. Don't go in the kitchen, it's seriously getting nuts in there." Renji raised a tattooed eyebrow, reading something in his friend but got to his feet.

"Well maybe I should check it out, yeah?"

"Ah…okay, I think I'm gonna head home now. I need to take Karin to her practice tomorrow." Renji turned back to the orange-haired male who gave a convincing smile. He sighed, checking the time. It was nearly one in the morning. Ichigo was usually awake until two or three, and Karin's practice wasn't until noon. He just wanted out of this enormous and suffocating house.

"C'mon Ichi, just for a bit? I don't trust my baby girl walking home all by herself." He put his arm around Ichigo's shoulder and soon got a punch to the abdomen.

"Fine, you can check the kitchen and then we are out of here." Ichigo said with a grain of salt. He didn't want to go in the kitchen. Drunken people were dangerous, or at least that's what he gathered from this group. The kitchen lights were dimmed, that or one of the bulbs had broken earlier and this was the remaining light source. Shinji was reclining on the marble counter top that had empty two-liters and cans, as well as cardboard cases of various booze. Next to him Jiruga was sitting on a stool, half slouched onto the table as his body was too long for the short counter. Ichigo vaguely noticed Grimmjow's presence across the room, having a conversation with the two boys in his gym class that had even more vulgar dispositions than himself. The blond kid—Roy, he remembered—was giggling like a toddler as he had a drink in his hand, surely not old enough for it but what in this house was legal tonight. He wished Ulquiorra's bed sheets well.

Renji maneuvered through the throngs of students to see Shuu and the bald kid, exchanging a few words until the black-haired man with a peculiar tattoo on his cheek (Ichigo just noticed) put his arm around Renji's shoulders. The group laughed, continuing a conversation as Renji had been sucked into the delirious talk. Sighing, Ichigo let them meander around their corner of the room while trying to avoid both them and the other groups that were impeding on the other's territory.

"Yoichi!" Ichigo's ears perked only slightly until a force nearly kicked the breath out of him, someone having nearly leapt onto his back. Not making such a fine jump the other insisted on hanging by Ichigo's shoulders. Giving a disgruntled groan and straightening himself, he pulled albino hands off of him and gave a glare to the black sclera eyed duplicate. It only took a second for Ichigo to realize he hadn't been called Yoichi but instead the other's speech was so fast it was a greeting.

"Shiro, what're you doing?" He grumbled, feeling ridiculous for practically lifting his equal back into a standing position. Shiro gave a near-yellow grin, waving an unopened dewy can in front of Ichigo's face.

"Ya looked bored so I came 'round to save the night!" God Ichigo hoped the one thing they didn't have in common was their voices. His own couldn't be that high-pitched and skin crawling, could it?

"I don't drink, Shiro." Ichigo stated clearly and venomously, still getting the can put in his hand firmly, Shiro giving the back of his hand a pat before scampering away. It was hardly a scamper as a stool nearly took him out on the way back to the counter. He was drunk off his rocker and Ichigo couldn't understand how he could drink so much in that short time he hadn't seen him. The watery sensation in his hand started to tingle with coolness, glancing back at the can as it heated up in his cleanched fist he hadn't realized was so tight.

Ichigo glanced back at where Shiro was currently, as it appeared, trying to pull off Grimmjow's shirt until getting a swift punch in the jaw. Grimmjow was hurriedly pushed out of the kitchen by Jiruga and the hysterically laughing Shiro for some reason or another. He placed the can back on another kitchen countertop, staying away from the roughhousing that would ultimately lead to more spilt beer and broken light bulbs. He sighed, eying the dance floor as a familiar tune ran through his head. He didn't think too much of it. He got out of the way as a hand took another can from a box, a frown on his visage aimed at it but he was off as soon as he entered. Well he sure looked pissed, maybe he'd gotten pranke with that sort of hair color. He looked back at Renji, back to where the trio was disappearing to out in the living room. He averted his eyes quickly, seeing a bit too much—Enough was enough. He walked back to the laughing seniors and promptly tore Renji out from under the arm of the large breasted woman that still looked incredibly familiar.

"Renji, let's go." The red-head sighed, giving a short nod regardless and told his friend he'd see them on Monday. Ichigo herded Renji out through the quickest route and avoided the pair Ichigo had been set off by. Ichigo had a right mind to cover his ears from the noise that was being created, but didn't look back to the dance floor.

"What's bothering you now, Berry?" Renji was dragging his feet, slowing the dragging process for mere satisfaction at how unhinged his friend was getting. Receiving a sharp amber glare made his footsteps turn regular again.

"Well I've seen enough when my duplicate gives me beer and proceeds to strip everyone in the room, and when I see enough freakish people sucking face in a living room," Ichigo shut the door of the house, the smell of alcohol lingering on their clothes and wafting out the windows. It was so much cooler and open outside, allowing Ichigo to take a deep cleansing breath he needed. "That was ridiculous."

"Well, Matsumoto-sensei was having a wonderful time." Renji chuckled at Ichigo's shocked expression as they exited the gold gates of the estate.

"That was the teacher that accuses you of…how'd she get here?"

"I dunno, maybe Ikkaku invited her. Who cares, she likes drinking and won't report Yorra." Ichigo nearly cringed again as his friend was picking up more nicknames for the short Hueco.

"Yeah, right."

"So what's got the stick up yer ass now, just everyone trying to get you to drink?"

"That among other things" Ichigo replied coolly, feeling Renji's stare on him soon enough. "It's nothing; it was just getting too wild for me in there."

"Still it was some party. I hope he has another one. Would ya go? Even for a bit?" Renji prodded, pulling his hoodie back over his shoulders. Ichigo bit the inside of his lip a little in thought, he hadn't thought of that prospect, he was more-so concerned about how he'd survive on Monday when he had class with all these people (except Shiro, of course). He shuddered at the thought of Algebra class and his partner…oh gods that already felt unbearable.

"Yeah, I'd go."

He hoped and prayed the bluenet would simply forget this ever happened. He vaguely wondered if that was what he really wanted.

* * *

><p>Szayel was nearly drumming his fingers to the beat of his own mind concocting his plan of action. Oh, things were just going <em>swimmingly. <em>That was only half-sarcastic; he made a mental note, as he was already in the company of his chemistry partner Ishida Uryuu. Honestly, this guy was as resilient as a cockroach was to nuclear explosions. Sure he'd told a little white lie but he was human, even if his ideas were _brilliant. _Szayel Aporro was never one to give up easily, though he must say he had a habit of pouting a while before continuing his plans—which was why he was seated in the kitchen listening to such drunken drivel.

The Hueco students were a part of his old circle back in the single high school. He wouldn't call it friendship (Szayel was more one to keep his enemies close and friends out of his mindset completely) considering all of the boys were younger than he. The well-built bluenet served as a wonderful conversation piece with his animalistic tendencies and ruthlessness when provoked. The short Ulquiorra who had invited him to his event was probably the closest he'd have to an actual friend. He showed absolutely no external emotion or expression on his pallid features and his tone followed the same. He was a fascinating find indeed. The lanky snake was much less the case. Szayel _despised _that skinny freak—yes, Szayel calling _him_ a freak! He'd had the unfortunate run-in as Nnoitra teamed himself up with Szayel: brains with the brawn, as it could be classified, and then stabbed him in the back. Nnoitra got what he wanted and was relentless to his now ex-partner.

A little bit inside Szayel missed Nnoitra. The little bit that was being murdered with various medical appliances at a flick of his wrist.

There were, of course, many other acquaintances he knew just from these three. Shinji, for example, though he had the habit of getting too close and being a bother to Szayel's internal monologues. Shiro, for another, had been quite interesting until Szayel had documented all of his medical conditions in a simple white folder. His friends got dull, though useful. That's why he needed Ishida. He was younger, indeed, but not as savage as these other young men. He was smart—nearly matching Szayel's own intellect, a rare find indeed. But he had a great many flaws, such as: being as antisocial as he sometimes thought of himself as, an easily provoked personality, and an unconditional love of sewing over science. He would need to document a lot on that last one to even fathom how it could be so entertaining.

Oh, yes, a bit off topic. If Szayel was being halfway sarcastic, then what was the bright side? He had a plan, of course. And it was already in the making. Upon his arrival he'd been displeased with the fact Nnoitra was not present. The one time he needed that stupid traitor he was absent. Now his experiment had grape soda and that was upsetting him already with his sour disposition of not wanting to be there. Szayel glanced into the living room, bemused to see him still on that chair in the corner. He'd been lucky enough to witness Cirucci try and interact with him and had inner glee with the stupid girl's failure. She was dropping her standards, or perhaps trying to get Szayel's own attention.

Yes, Cirucci had a thing for Szayel. Unacceptable. The flouncy, double helix haired girl sickened the scientist at a single thought. It interested him enough where he'd make his own experiment to figure out what was wrong with her head for constantly bothering him. He was smart enough to avoid her.

Right right the plan. So now that revolting Jiruga was present with his goods Szayel was concocting a mixed drink like some sick chemistry experiment. It made him bubbly in amusement. He could hardly tell how socially awkward people could react to a party scene for the first time with him sitting in the corner like that! Honestly, did all men from Karakura reject women practically falling into their laps? He wouldn't wish that upon the innocent bespectacled sophomore, anyhow. The current experiment: see how fast you can get someone drunk out of their mind.

It would be a challenge, surely. Szayel was ready though, and he knew for sure it was a good idea when the occupants of the room started getting a distance from him. That usually meant the sadistic grin on his face was at its peak. Sadistic…what a wondrous word to use for the senior-leveled student scientist.

"Hey Pinky, did you use the last of my fuckin' tequila?" Nnoitra approached on his personal space, and he looked even more crazed, even if he'd only been buzzed. Szayel's amber eyes slid over in his direction, having to shift the narrowed gaze upwards, his sadistic smirk sinking. Nnoitra's dark eyes looked violet in the dim lighting; his lips pursed shut for the first time in a while. Szayel said nothing for a good 2 seconds, long enough to see the prominent Adam's apple bob, swallowing the bit of fear. Szayel's eyes hid behind his glasses again, peering into his concoction as if it were a Petri dish.

"I did, now get out of my sight, you bent spoon."

Szayel completed his mixed drink (he made sure it had the same scent and look as grape soda, whether the taste was close enough or not was a bargain) while he took another drink for himself, non-tampered. Nnoitra glided away, keeping his eyes on the scientist as he seethed like a cobra that got outshined by the mongoose. Szayel recalled their previous years, when a white sweater pulled over Jiruga's long face made him look like a glistening spoon and it riled him every time. He ignored the stares in his back, striding out into the living room he grinned down at his newest disciple.

"Well, that was interesting to see, yes? Cirucci isn't that much of a witch, is she?" Yes, she was, he idly thought even if it was a joke about her last name. Ishida's eyes snapped back to attention to the looming, pink-haired man.

"I'm not interested if that's what you're getting at."

"Oh, surely not! She just likes to make friends, I suppose," he took a seat in a chair near the other that had already been moved out of his wide personal bubble. Szayel casually offered the second drink to Ishida as he turned up his nose.

"What, now you're saying you're not interested in any more soda?" Szayel took a drink of his own, even if he particularly didn't enjoy the carbonation. His lips split into a grin over the lip of the red cup as Ishida took the second drink, a scowl on his face. Szayel quickly rid his successful visage as he took another drink, gagging down the heavily sugar-concentrated drink and watched the floor. This wasn't his first party, and this one was definitely heating up. Cirucci's skirt was fluttering on the floor while she…"danced" with a few potential mates as well as a few younger girls he'd heard no good about. Menoly, Loli, that girl Orihime being dragged into their heathen-like dance. Women, honestly; how unreliable. This sort of "dance music" was about as sickening as the creatures enjoying it. Photo frames rattled from the reverberating bass, but it didn't have any lyrical value in his opinion. It was like a periodic table without atomic weight.

His honey colored eyes danced across the floor, observing another sort of dance when the song changed. Oh, how typical of Shinji to slide his wiry body into the fray and careening himself towards the stereo system. Ulquiorra's parents must really appreciate music for such an immense sound system, perhaps they were compensating for something. Regardless, Hirako let a slimy grin cover his features as upbeat whistling filled the room, and loud whoops came from the kitchen. Szayel chuckled, his instinctual urge to join in with his comrades, he knew exactly what was happening, as it wasn't the first time.

Shiro was pushing Grimmjow _Jeager_jaquez into the living room, a scowl ever present while Shiro's visage was red with pure glee. Szayel Aporro joined in the group that whistled along with the recognizable tune, the music being turned so high that others' were practically drowned out. The pair had done this before, always to Grimmjow's disfavor. Just as Nnoitra had been called a colorful amount of names, the young troupe's favorite for Grimmjow was Jagger, and it suited him, because he could dance damn well. Shiro was his accompaniment, also singing along to the words in that chalky voice hoarse with drink and laughter. Shiro was good at dancing as well, well, from what Szayel had seen when he wasn't intoxicated. Normally he was off doing another sort of dance with another.

Szayel tapped his fingers against the plastic cup, hearing the clicks it made in his head whether it was audible over the decibel levels in the room. Grimmjow didn't quite seem himself; last he'd been seen at a dance he was owning the show with "I'm sexy and I know it" before "Moves like Jagger" impeded his escape. Now…oh now, Szayel would need to see how this unfolded. Aquamarine eyes were searching the room, not focusing as much on what he was doing. He was looking for something. Perhaps…

Szayel's thoughts were interrupted as a plastic cup tapped the side of his arm, jolting him from his slouched, concentrated position. Looking to his right, Ishida was handing him an empty red cup, glossy navy eyes going from Szayel to the flashing figures from the lights on the dance floor. Granz tried his best to keep a grin under wraps, taking the cup from him and stacked it under his own, nearly empty cup.

"Did you want another drink, Ishida-kun?" Szayel was almost giddy, Ishida being jolted form the pretty flashy-lights. He nodded, a bit dramatically at that. Giving another chuckle, Szayel stood and retreated back into the kitchen, pulling Nnoitra's hood off of his head on the walk by. Slinky bastard. The things he did for excitement, being a bartender at a high school party for an under-aged kid. But no science could be done with the law in question. He saw some kid with a deer-in-headlights look about him; he was probably from Ishida's class anyways. He brushed past him, slinking further into the kitchen to find something, anything, that would work faster.

Uryuu was definitely getting drunk, except Shiro had probably swigged the whole bottle of tequila and Szayel was unable to replicate his concoction. What could he find that would act as a substitute? He slunk to the back of the kitchen and perused the table. Most of the bottles were empty, or broken in the trash, while a few cans remained in the cardboard cases of various brewers. He shook his head, grabbing a simple can of Bud off the countertop, for the lack of anything else. He'd never get Ishida to drink separated purple vodka soda. Well, he might as well be frank; hoping that in this haze the young boy was in would have him believe there was nothing else left. Maybe Szayel should become a bartender when he was of age…

He exited the room and fluidly moved amongst the crowd back to his party-goers hiding corner. He stopped, shifting his eyes around as Ishida had gotten up and wandered over to the stereo, feeling like he had to change the song away from the music that also made Szayel's head pound. He shook his hair out of his eyes, Ishida slowly making his way around the room to find his corner. He looked like a lost kid, honestly. He took his seat and barely took notice of Szayel until he sat by him, dangling the can in front of him.

"They ran out of your soda." Szayel said, just enough to be heard over the music. Ishida looked it over, turning his nose away again, much more snottily. Definitely acting like a kid.

"I dun't drink, Granz.." Szayel bit back another chuckle, but pulled the can away from him, still hanging onto it.

"Oh, I wouldn't expect you to." Szayel, you filthy genius. Speaking of filth, he felt air brush by his side as slender arms wrapped over his shoulders and a bouncy, silk texture brushed his cheek.

"Hey, Szayel-senpai."

"Cirucci." He resisted shaking his head, the hairspray already making his mind swirl, and he hated that feeling. This young woman was always overly decorated with makeup and product, the scent of spray trying to be masked by another body spray entitled "Sexy" by some company. Revolting was probably second on the list but it was too advanced a word to fit on the bottle. This woman baffled the daylights out of Szayel and he didn't have the nerve to risk asking her why.

"Can we have a dance, please?" She plucked the can of beer out of his hand with her painted fingers, noting it was unopened. "You don't drink, do you? Ishida-kun must, though." She looked at the black haired young man who was staring at her curiously. For all Szayel knew he could be seeing Cirucci on fire from swirling chemicals. What a wonderful prospect.

"I don't drink, lady…git off 'im." Ishida waved his hand, thoroughly dismissing the girl as her wide eyes narrowed.

"Ishida-kun, don't be rude! We can share…" Szayel couldn't resist a swallow as her hands squeezed his shoulders tighter. Ishida didn't look approving.

"He called you a witch, too. Go 'way." Szayel got a small smile as her decorated fingers pulled away from him, moving to her hips instead.

"Rude! Fine, I'll see you later, senpai." She waved her fingers, a disgusting gesture as she tromped back into the rough. Szayel shook his head, running his fingers through his cotton candy colored locks and brushing it away from his face.

"I'm surprised you took action like that, Ishida-ku—" Szayel stopped, opening his eyes again as he heard Uryuu's glasses click against his own, white plastic frames. "—n…?" Ishida smelled of grapes and fresh laundry. The entire room reeked of alcohol but the only exception was Uryuu, having repelled himself from the scent in every way. His eyes were still glossy, obviously the only part of him that had been affected by the drinking. They were faded navy and deep, like the darkest pool of water that lead to some unknown chasm.

He didn't get to look at them long as eyelids hid them and his lips brushed the others, initiating a timid kiss. Szayel's eyes were still wide behind his glasses, his hand finally dropping the beer can onto the floor as Ishida's fisted into his polo. Granz was flabbergasted…could this be part of what he was trying to witness? Experiment on? Hell with it. Throwing caution to the wind he pulled Ishida back into the kiss as he'd started to fold. He let his eyelids slide shut with Uryuu's as his hand slid onto Ishida's thigh. Ishida had no idea what he was doing, and Szayel was more than okay with taking the reins.

He kissed the younger man deeper, winning his dominance in it easily as he cupped Ishida's jaw with his other hand, it sliding around back to his neck to grip his hair. Uryuu gave a small whimper, being moved into the senior's lap as his hair was given a tug, opening his mouth further. Szayel's fingers twirled around in black hair, he wasn't used to feeling it so short…Szayel flinched a little uncomfortably, his eyes twitching open as he pulled off of the younger boy, now left without breath. _Damn it_, he still couldn't forget the past even if his new experiment played into his lap, literally.

Uryuu seemed just as confused, though he was continually confused with the venom through his system. Szayel cleared his throat, wiping away a blush and eying the kitchen and dance posse, hoping no one had seen the scarlet blush and loss of control. He was relieved to see everyone distracted, including a pair making a quick run for the exit. "Ishida-kun, allow me to walk you back home."

Szayel didn't let Uryuu's protests impede his movements. He pulled the dark haired sophomore to his feet and tugged him towards the door, ignoring the stares. He was practically holding the alcoholic virgin's hand down a straight path, and it certainly looked bad for him. Szayel was infamous for leaving drunks to fend for themselves—case in point, Nnoitra. They could probably manage themselves, however. Ishida: not so much. Szayel pulled the short boy outside into the fresh air, finding himself biting the inside of his lip. What had come over him? Uryuu was drunk, not in control of his actions. Szayel wasn't drunk, he was always in control!

That's what he thought, anyways.

He also thought he knew what the hell he was doing, until getting three blocks away from the enormous state he realized he didn't know where Uryuu lived, and he had a suspicion that the younger couldn't remember either. "Ishida-kun, where do you live?" He asked again, looking to his side. He was still holding his hand like a lost child, and Ishida appeared about ready to sit down for a nap. What, a sleepy drunk? He seemed pretty straight-forward when he—gah! Repeating his question got a shake of Uryuu's head as he pulled his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Szayel had seen him do it while he was personally trying to bother him, so maybe it was a natural behavior.

"Ishida, I'm not taking you home with me. Where do you live." Szayel's voice lowered, and his voice was already pretty low. The black haired boy shook his head again, his eyes blinking becoming more infrequent and fluttery. A growl bubbled in Szayel's throat, of course he hadn't given Ishida much chance; after detention he let Ishida out of his sight and met with him back at school to walk there. He must live close-by the school, as he hadn't been dropped off in a car. That was a start, at least. He could of course save all the trouble and just take him home…but that wasn't sounding safe at all. Though, Ishida was only sixteen, if he returned home and lived with his family it wouldn't go over well in the morning. Watching the streetlamps he shook his head, taking the next turn. Perhaps this could be an excuse for studying the first hangover.

* * *

><p><em><span>Saturday<span>_

This was the worst day of Ishida Uryuu's life.

He woke up in his disheveled school uniform, and it _reeked. _The smell wasn't the only thing that made his head throb. It was pounding in pain, and his eyes felt sore and sleeping longer sounded like a good plan. He finally managed to keep his eyes open long enough to see clean white sheets around him, like he was under a canopy. He pulled the blankets down, groping around until he finally felt the cool metallic of his glasses on a side table. His eyes adjusted slower than usual, making him see double for a few moments before he was able to focus his vision. The room had white walls, few decorations around it. White sheets, a desk across from the queen bed. A closet was at the foot of the bed with classic wooden doors. On the other side was another women door left slightly ajar.

This was not Ishida Uryuu's room.

He sat up suddenly, the world spinning just as suddenly and nearly made him gag. Where was he? What was going on? Why did it feel like he hadn't showered in a week? He got to his feet (he'd slept in his socks, apparently) and got his balance on the sleek carpet floor. What time was it? He looked around the bleak room and did manage to find a clock on the wall, 2:30? How could he sleep in this…wait…the big hand is the…Okay, it was 6:10. Ishida was more a morning person than a night person at regular days, so this wasn't an unusual waking time for him but why the hell did it have to be so difficult!

He ran his figners through tangled hair, licking his dry lips. What was the last thing he remembered…music, dancing, that witch girl…

Szayel Aporro.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a clattering on the other side of the half-open door, his eyes darting over to it. Curiosity getting the better of him, he went to the door that must've lead out of the bedroom of wherever he was, but he had a sneaking suspicion of where he was. He smelled bacon, much better than the stagnant smell that was deep in his olfactory center. Whatever that scent and taste was he wanted it out, something like rotten fruit at the roof of his mouth. He nearly gagged again at focusing on said taste, still heading down the hallway.

The hall was short, passing another door until it opened up to a room with a couch on matching carpet to the room, then split into laminate tiles in a kitchenette. A pan on the stove sizzled and crackled from the fat being rendered inside it, and Ishida noticed a flattop on the counter that was also preparing what appeared to be pancakes. More importantly, a tall familiar man came out from behind a cupboard door, swirling a spatula on his fingers and glanced over.

"Good morning, Ishida," his eyes were cold with no depth. Ishida swallowed slightly at the lack of end phrase that Szayel usually used on him. He opened his mouth to reply when the pink-haired man shut the cabinet with a slight, wooden clatter. "You fell asleep after the party. I had to bring you here." Curse that man for always knowing what he was about to say.

"You didn't…_have_ to," Ishida was hoping his voice would have a bit more ungratefulness in it but it was more the opposite. "I need...to get home. Thank you." He swallowed, looking at the time while it said 6:14 instead. His father would be awake for work around 8, plenty of time to shower and do laundry and take way to many aspirin. He didn't really see Szayel nod but assumed he did, making sure he had his things, and realizing he didn't bring any with to the party. Gods his head hurt, how did he fall asleep during that mess and get such a headache?

He thought about giving Szayel another goodbye, but the other seemed more distracted than normal. Ishida hoped he liked his bacon extra crispy. That man was such a strange character. He got outside, finding the street corner of the apartment and recognizing the address. It was within decent distance of school, so he knew the general direction he had to go to reach the building, and then home from there. The walk hardly went fast while he was stuck thinking. He couldn't have gotten drunk; he didn't even go into the kitchen. That girl Cirucci was harassing him, but she couldn't really incapacitate him like that (he ventured, at least). The loud music could explain his headache, but he'd never fall asleep with that going.

His only other option was that Szayel was lying to him. He passed the school bulletin board, taking a left down the residential street. He dug in his pocket as was thankful to find his phone still there, but he'd likely have strange sleeping marks from it. He paged through it, finding Szayel's name his finger stopped short of the green calling icon. His memory wasn't serving his well at the moment, but he did remember things before midnight. He never entered his partner's phone number into his contacts. He opened the contact information, the name reading quietly stately "Szayel Aporro Granz" and the phone number. There was no picture, but his address was listed along with the apartment number. Everything in the contacts was filled out, detailed, though the business section was left blank. Ishida wouldn't be able to enter all of this in the state he must've been under the night before, until the last line on the contacts list entitle "Notes" was also filled.

Ishida swallowed, running a hand through his hair before it slid down over his face and lips. His walking faltered, reading the note aloud in a whisper. "Thanks, but no thanks."

How could he have forgotten that?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Alright, 3-4 day project right here. This may not be the most fascinating chapter, but Szayel and Ishida are among the important pairings in the story. The lesser important ones won't really be as detailed as this. I may up it to four or five. There's one pairing I'm not sure I can pull off writing as, but two I'd be willing to try.

Sorry for anyone waiting for the Pokémon chapter, I'm going to start fresh on it. I want it perfect for you all :3


	7. Chapter 7: Learn or Leave

A/N: HURP. Finally did that Pokémon chapter and…it's been a long time XD I've had drawing/paper-writing homework coming up/due, so nothing was really accomplished. My drawing projects come first because the OCT I'm in has deadlines. Sorry guys =/

I don't really know what to say so…onwards.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>_

**Disce aut Discede**

**Saturday—4 a.m.**

"Shirosaki-kun."

A groan rumbled in his throat.

"Shirosaki-kun…Hichigo…" the same, smooth voice protruded the albino's sleeping mind.

"SHIRO-OOO! Wake yer skinny ass up!"

"Fuck off!" Shiro cringed, rubbing his head before lifting it. He was embarrassed to see a thin layer of drool over marble countertops, and plenty of booze around him to explain what had occurred. Before him his two tall friends giggled away, while his host remained stoic.

"Shirosaki-kun, good to see you conscious." He smarmily commented, causing the other two's riot to become louder.

"Ch, Ya got a comfy counter, Schiff." The inky young male shook his head lightly, dark locks skating over his eyes. Shiro wouldn't resort to those girlish nicknames everyone else called the emo, Yora or Ully. Schiff sounded at least a bit more masculine, even if the owner of said nickname was not physically. Like if someone said Smirnoff a little too quickly.

Oh, the last thing he needed was more alcohol.

"Ya were pretty fucked up, Shiro. Clean knocked out while everyone ran out of here." Nnoitra's voice got his thoughts off of his unpleasant stomach, grinning like an idiot. His bandana that normal folded neatly over his eye was instead around his neck, his shirt slightly disheveled as well.

"Yeah, an' what were ya doin' while everyone left?" His negative colored eyes darted between his shirt and neck, a smirk creeping over his face. Nnoitra glared, zipping up his half-undone hoodie so the sleeves weren't hanging off his thin shoulders.

"Fuck off."

"So kind, Nnoi." Shinji, the second one in front of the marble gave a grin that mimicked Shiro's. Obviously he knew something Shiro didn't. He didn't even doubt that, even if Shiro would've been sober and awake he'd be three steps behind the Ramen noodle. Shinji was all-seeing, and that was probably along with the effect of his uncle and twice-over teacher, Urahara.

"What fuckin' time is it?" Shiro interjected again, sitting up and cracking his back, steadying himself on the stool so he wouldn't fall backwards.

"About four," Nnoitra huffed, retying the bandana under his sleek hair, masking whatever he didn't want the world to see. "You've been out since about two, after Berry left."

"Well, the fuck did Grimmy run off to?"

"Ully-chan suckered him into fixin' the mess he made of the livin' room with his mad-ass dance party."

"I volunteered, you bean pole." Grimmjow's gruff tone came from behind Shiro, the flipping of switches heard before a vacuum. Shinji's smile couldn't be broken even if Grimmjow had a fist in his face. That's why Shiro liked the guy, probably. He was a smartass, flirtatious little shithead with a sense of humor like his own. And he had a pair and the power to back it up tucked away somewhere in his lithe form. Shinji and Shiro had been friends for years; they'd gone to the same school their entire life. When Shinji was expelled from their middle school and moved to a foreign class, Shiro was left as the awkward kid again, not only going through "the phase" but his own skin coloration drew unnecessary attention.

He should be thankful Shinji moved away from him for those years. He wouldn't have learned to throw shit back at people if he hadn't had to learn himself.

Then sophomore year he'd officially given himself his status for high school. He'd dealt with enough of the stares and whispers to shout back terms of endearment such as "The fuck ya talkin' about, cockface?" when overhearing said things. There was of course one instance he couldn't quite get over.

The second day at Hueco high he happened to say this phrase to someone a bit bigger than him. In all cases, Shiro wouldn't back down.

"_Wash yer mouth out with some soap, ya fuckin' runt." The large, piercing-eyed boy in Shiro's home base class grumbled. Shiro scoffed, unfortunately being placed in the seat diagonal from him. He'd been talking to some skinny-as-shit guy that reminded him of Shinji—wearing a grin constantly. That was gut-wrenching enough to hear them talking about how much of a freak he was. _

"_Yer soap is probably flowery as that bitch's," his highlighter yellow eyes flicked to their home base teacher with curling chestnut hair. "and I don't want anythin' of yers down my throat, freak." In retrospect, he'd been pushing a few buttons probably. He didn't have any qualms with, well, what he was implying._

Not that he would! Back to the story…

_Needless to say, once homeroom ended and Shiro was basking in his cocky disposition, he got a fist to the jaw and was punted into the wall. The scratched-up number over the door nearly fell on him from the impact, clenching his jaw in shock. The other student scoffed, his friend giving a few cackles behind him. Shiro got to his feet and socked him right in the nose just as Halibel, the gym teacher, put him in a choke-hold in her attempt to stop the fight._

_"Git off me!" Shiro cursed, held firm by the brawny woman (and her breasts). The blue-haired punk was in a similar situation with a dark skinned man with tinted glasses and torn white dress shirt._

"Both of you to the office, now." the man uttered lowly, spinning the feral sophomore down the hall. Halibel shoved Shiro in the same direction, shooing him when he glowered back at her. He grumbled, trudging down the hall to the clearly distinguishable principal's office. He heard the larger man following him after a while.

"_Lil' shitface." He heard him grumble. Shiro just shook his head, pushing the doors of the office open, not really holding it open for the one behind him. The other wasn't very amused, but took a seat in an uncomfortable school chair lined up against the wall by a large door with a golden plaque. _

"_I'll wash yer mouth out with soap, bluey." He snickered at the irritation on the blue-haired boy's face. It made him look even more dangerous, and Shiro just looked at him dead-on. A feral growl escaped him as a petite woman with glasses stepped in front of them both, looking grim._

"_Both of you can enter the office now." She briskly returned to her desk, short heels clicking. She looked like she took her job as a secretary much more seriously than anyone else in the school. It made her seem misplaced, especially in her black skirt and blouse. The blue-haired boy kicked Shiro's chair, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he stood in front of him._

"_Lis'en, we both tell him it was just some' fun-an'-games, he'll let us go. Clear?" He spoke like some military official, already planning the enemy's next move._

"_How do ya' think he'll buy that?" Shiro scoffed, getting to his feet and standing with his normal slouching pose. _

"_We're friends, tha's how. And if ya land me in detention I'll fuck yer face off." Shiro suppressed a girlish giggle. That sounded like something Shinji would say, a bit more cryptically, likely, but Shinji-like in the same. The other appeared dead serious, his vicious blue eyes piercing his own._

"_Gotcha, so whatcha called?"_

"_Grimmjow."_

"_Alright Grimmy, call me Shiro."_

"_Call me Grimmy again an' I'll really wreck your shit."_

The rest of the story didn't matter. Even as an act, Shiro couldn't keep himself away from the dangerous Grimmjow, and he continually called him Grimmy. A few bruises later, he'd relented, and their endearing terms lasted the year. Turned out that Grimmjow couldn't get a write-up at the beginning of the year because his scholarship could've been revoked, and apparently he needed to stay in this school. Neither of them could've predicted that they'd be moving schools regardless of their records their junior year. With Shiro on Grimmy's good side, he'd met people like that slinky fucker that also reminded him of a darker Shinji, as well as the short emo whose home they now relaxed in.

"Yo, Earth to Shiro! What the hell, man?" Shiro blinked a few times, his chin on his hand before he looked up at Shinji as he leaned over the albino.

"Sorry, jus' took a lil' nap."

"Ch, jerk, totally missed the best conversation ever."

"Well, tell me."

"Oh, no, it's not that great." Shinji smiled teasingly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Shiro rolled his eyes before giving a yellow-toothed yawn. Nnoitra snickered in a way that sounded more like a signature hiss.

"Does mommy Shinji gotta put Shiro-chan to bed?"

"Ch, I'll send ya to a hospital bed." Shiro got off his stool. The vacuum stopped from the other room when he stood, drawing the young men's attention to Grimmjow reentering the kitchen.

"Good 'nuff," he grumbled, rolling his shirt sleeves down. The other boys nodded for lack of something better to say. Shiro was always one to strike up new conversation anyways.

"So Grimmy, didja see that one kid?"

"There are lots of kids here." The brawnier man huffed, not meeting Shiro's eyes. He hadn't done that all night, as a matter of fact. Shiro made a pouting guise before stomping in front of Grimmjo, putting his hands on his forearms and shaking him.

"The kid tha' looks like me! Ya know him, you tol' me about him! Ain't it weird?"

"I know, that's why I told you. I don't wanna talk about it." Grimmjow stated quite smoothly.

"But ain't it—"

"Shiro, I said I don't wanna fuckin' talk about that shit, got it!" Grimmjow snapped abruptly, locking eyes with Shiro's and boring azure holes into him. Shiro's childish grin dripped off his face, before he took a step back.

"Yeah, really weird…" He said under his breath.

"Let's go." Grimmjow said after a few moments of silence, the jingling of his keys being heard in his jeans.

"I'm with ya on that." Shinji stretched, giving an over exaggerated yawn and bumping his arms into Nnoitra purposefully. The taller boy with the white hoodie looked him over before shaking his head, a grin on his face.

"Thanks fer' lettin' us in, Ully." Nnoitra gleefully praised the shortest member of the group, who blinked his eyes longer than average instead of actually nodding. "C'mon beanie, I need a lift."

"I got'cher." Shinji grinned, twirling his keys on his fingers.

"Shin, can ya still drive me home?" Shiro looked back at his mysterious friend, who gave him the look as if he'd forgotten he was there.

"Oh, er, Nnoi was gonna let me borrow some of his shit. It might take a while." Shiro frowned, not pleased with seeing Shinji at a loss for words.

"Ch, whatever." He turned to look at Grimmjow to see him pulling a hood over his unruly hair. He remembered he must have taken his bike that probably didn't want to share it. Shinji drove him to Ulquiorra's, why the hell would his best friend bail on him for that snake bastard now!

"I will give you a ride home, Shirosaki-kun." Ulquiorra finally spoke up for the first time in a while. Everyone seemed to have forgotten he was present, or at least thought he was elsewhere in the immense home.

"I'll just walk."

"I've heard your address before; it is a fairly distant place. I will drive." Shiro shook his head, cursing Ulquiorra's good hearing and memory. He hardly even knew that Ulquiorra could drive or reach the pedals.

"A'ight, thanks." Shiro was more grateful than he sounded as Schiff got his keys off a hook, waving Shiro towards his garage.

"Good night everyone. I am glad you all decided to attend."

"Night, shorty." Nnoitra pulled the hood over his head.

"Nighty night, Yora." Shinji waved his fingers while Nnoitra also gave an upwards flick of his chin in the other's direction. Grimmjow left without a word. Nnoitra didn't even bother looking for any of his leftovers drinks, figuring some other guests probably smuggled out what they'd found and Shiro had already downed plenty of it himself. His head was throbbing now and he needed to get some sleep and take a long shower in the morning, maybe after a manly purging of the drink. Within a few moments he was sliding inside of Ulquiorra's car, a white 2009 Charger, nearly sinking in the seats. Ulquiorra took the effort of wearing his seatbelt before backing out of the garage and driving onto the main streets.

"I apologize for Jeagerjaquez's outburst, Shirosaki-kun," Shiro was jolted from a momentary nap by the sudden voice. Ulquiorra kept his liquid emerald eyes on the road, having no difficulties with traffic at this hour, but still attentive.

"Why, ya don't babysit him. Somethin' musta just crawled up his ass," Shiro reclined back in the leather seats. Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed even more than they usually were. He hit the brakes on a red light, jolting Shiro slightly. He didn't say anything about it.

"Certainly," He replied, his voice carrying some unusual tone to it. Shiro watched him continue driving as the light turned green. Within ten minutes of silence he slowed to a stop in front of Shirosaki's home. It was a simple small-family home of white and black shingles. The screen door had a few tears in it, and the lawn was undecorated, but it was otherwise quaint. It did fine, since Shiro only lived with his mother.

"Thanks Schiff." He sat up, his hip numb from his slouching position. Ulquiorra gave a nod, watching him slide out of the seat and glance back into the car.

"Be well, Shirosaki-kun," Shiro nodded slowly, shutting the car door with a quiet 'You too' before heading up his sidewalk. The car drove off slowly until he had his keys out, fumbling them into the small lock. He swallowed, and crept into the house quietly to not disturb his mom. He slipped his shoes off, at the door and peeled off the layers of clothes in his room, adding them to the pile next to his bed. He slid under the covers, getting comforting shivers from the cool sheets. They were clean and crisp, like water, smelling fresh. Mom Nel always had problems with his room smelling like "reckless teenage boy" and took the liberty of washing his sheets regularly. It was at least a sign that he wasn't alone. He told himself to shower in the morning and rid himself of the beer smell staining his bed. Mom would have to wash them again, scold him a few times, but get the job done.

His eyes drifted closed regardless of some of the regret he was feeling. Something was wrong with his friends, and he would find out just what when he found out what felt wrong about himself.

* * *

><p><em><span>Saturday, 10 a.m.<span>_

Toshiro pushed the squeaky screen door of his grandmother's house with his shoulder and shut the wooden door behind him with a bag in his arms. She'd asked him to go to the grocery store only a few blocks away, and she insisted on bringing the reusable bags too. They were a real pain to carry and fill, but they wouldn't rip on the walk back, at least. He headed down the sidewalk of a mildly busy street lined by old residential homes and diners.

He yawned within two blocks of his home. Hitsugaya had barely gotten any sleep last night because of that damn creep! There he was, minding his own business and getting home from school, when _Ichimaru-sensei _was in his posh little car _staring _at him. Had he never seen a kid walk home before or something? Regardless, he couldn't get that damnable grin from the back of his eyelids to let him sleep in peace. He would never trust that tall man in white with the crooked smile.

Waiting for the crosswalk barely took any time at all while his thoughts were distracted with his next course of action. Ichimaru knew that Toshiro had caught him, dare he say, stalking him to his home. But what about Monday when he would have class with that monstrosity? What sort of ways can you ask "Hey, what the fuck were you doing creeping on me after school" in the middle of class? Oh, he could just imagine the look on that bastard's face all throughout class, giving him sideways glances and just plain _knowing _it would ruin his young student.

Within another two blocks and a crossing of a parking lot he entered the store's sliding gates. He glared at the carts, figuring that acquiring one would only get him into some embarrassing situation, like "Where's your mother, young man?" He instead grabbed a couple baskets, keeping them stacked for the while and slid the handles over into the bend of his elbow, walking further inside. Toshiro put the reusable baggies into the baskets before withdrawing the list his grandmother had written for him: Milk, eggs, bread, ibuprofen, and a few other odds and ends. The bottom of the list was Toshiro's own handwriting, adding his own little things that he needed for classes, such as a pencil sharpener or a stapler. This grocery had a decently stocked dollar section he hoped contained these things, but more importantly he wanted to get food…and watermelon.

He knew it was out of season but watermelon for him was good at all times.

Grandmother always told him to go through produce lastly, that way it says fresher and doesn't get carried around through the whole store. Hitsugaya headed to the dollar area first, finding a suitable kit that contained school supplies he'd find useful, his sharpener and stapler included. He mentally checked it off his list, going down more aisles getting the items not in the freezer sections. First basket full, he lifted it out of the second and carried it over his other elbow. He sighed, thinking about the next catch-up day he'd need to spend with Ichimaru while collecting fresh herbs for his grandmother's cooking. Would that be a good time to ask about yesterday? No certainly not. In private he would scorn him even more with tricky words and innocent attitude. He was anything but and Toshiro was determined to not buy into his act.

He took handfuls of herbs, such as cilantro and thyme, keeping them in their plastic baggies and separating them between carrots, potatoes, and heads of cabbage. Grandmother must have been planning to make a stew or salad, since her garden had yielded tomatoes that year. His grandmother could turn fresh produce into anything, really. Soon his basket was to the brim with bright vegetables and greens, even overflowing into the second. Hitsugaya's arms started to hurt from carrying the heavy baskets, but he had yet to obtain the last item—watermelon.

Hitsugaya rounded the produce aisle and approached the large cardboard enclosures that held his secret preteen love. He shuffled the baskets further onto the crook of his elbow and took a watermelon from the group. It was bright green, large, and clear of blemishes. Excellent. Toshiro tried not to think of how ridiculous he must look waddling towards the checkout with baskets swinging to his sides and a massive watermelon in his strained arms. He was sure glad the supermarket put the checkouts behind a maze of twirling get-well card racks and near-expiring candy bars. _Almost there. _

The fucking card stand caught onto one of his baskets. It creaked and spun loudly, surely drawing the attention of employees and customers that were nearby. Worse yet it jolted Hitsugaya forward and he pulled himself back to keep the baskets in his hands. The watermelon slipped from his loose grip and nearly hit the floor. Someone caught it in time and handed it back to Toshiro. The white-haired boy breathed a sigh of relief and untangled himself from cheesy Hallmark cards.

"Thank you," he went to take the large watery fruit back when he froze, his fingers locking up apprehensively.

"Yer a lil' klutzy, Shiro-chan," _Ichimaru-sensei _sneered. Toshiro glared at him and grabbed at the watermelon, but Ichimaru held it out of his reach. "I should help ya carry all this before this goes splat. By tha' look on yer face when ya dropped it I'd say ya don't want nothin' happenin' to this thing."

"Ichimaru-sensei, I'm perfectly able of checking myself out." He made another swipe for the watermelon clumsily. Ichimaru just stood back at his full height and spun around, heading to an open check-out aisle.

"So am I!" He continued to smile. Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed but followed the spindly bastard with _his goddamn watermelon _to the check out. Once there Hitsugaya put his baskets up onto the conveyor along with his reusable bags and took the green fruit from Ichimaru when his hands were free. Ichimaru had a basket over his arm with a few odds and ends, along with a packaged TV dinner.

"$30.74 is your total," the cashier looked at Ichimaru first, swallowing, before she took the money from the short boy next to him. Hitsugaya got his change and took his bags, determined to get the hell out of there.

"And $10.15 for you, sir," Ichimaru finished paying for his few items scary quickly, Hitsugaya hauling his bags towards the sliding doors. "Have a good day!"

"Shiro-chan, yer sure in a rush. Wouldn' want ya droppin' anythin' else." Unfortunately for Toshiro, Ichimaru had much longer legs and a lighter load than him.

"Yeah, I am in a hurry, for your information."

"Oh wonderful, I can give ya a lift then!"

"Wait, what?" Hitsugaya yelped as Ichimaru took his arm and tugged him through the parking lot. Even with his arms full Toshiro tugged back. "Let go!"

"Hm? It woul'nt be any trouble, Snowy. Yer lil' arms will get tired carryin' them bags."

"I'll scream, you know!" Toshiro pulled himself back from Ichimaru, who continued to look at him with slanted eyes.

"Ya'll what?"

"I-I said…you heard me! You can't force me in your car!" Toshiro cursed himself for stuttering. He watched Ichimaru think over his next words, but his teacher never seemed to be at a loss for them.

"Yer such a chibi," Ichimaru snaked his fingers into Toshiro's spiky hair, giving a short tug. "Don't ya think screamin' like a girl for 'er mommy would make ya look worse than me? Ya should save your screams for some other time."

He withdrew his hand and walked past Toshiro, twirling his car keys on his fingers. Hitsugaya felt a chill when he walked by, his words sinking in to the best of his knowledge. He didn't understand, but he couldn't doubt that screaming for help would be pointless.

"So are you comin', Toshi-chan?" Ichimaru sing-songed along to the beeps his car made as the doors unlocked. Toshiro turned, watching him grin as usual. He would never trust him. He lifted his bags and went to the passenger side door. "Ya're learnin' a lil, Shiro-chan."

"Shut up, Ichimaru-sensei."

The car drive was quiet. Ichimaru didn't listen to music on this drive, even though he doubted his passenger would start up conversation. He had to admit that Toshiro looked adorable out of his school uniform with the familiar scowl on his face. He always looked young and cute when he pouted, but he was young and cute either way. He'd hardly believed that he'd agree to the ride home, since he knew the general locale of Toshi-chan's residence. He probably could have walked, but that would have been inhospitable of him, wouldn't it have? Ichimaru was at the light a few blocks from Toshiro's house in a short while.

"Who do ya live with, Shiro-chan?" Ichimaru glanced to his passenger, though the short boy probably wouldn't have noticed with his slanted eyes. He glared at Ichimaru, who grinned more. He could easily find a way to get him to talk. "Toshiro-kun."

"My grandmother." Ah, worked like a charm. Ichimaru nodded, turning once the light was green.

"So, you were shoppin' for her."

"Mn," Ichimaru would take that as a yes. He pulled over next to the wooden home and creaky screen door. Toshiro got his bags and tried to open the car door, but it had auto-locked in the drive. Ichimaru sneered as Toshiro pulled the lock peg up, and he flicked his finger to relock it. Toshiro was too cute when he glared. "Don't cause too much trouble this weekend…I'll find out an' punish ya Monday."

"I bet." Toshiro sneered, unlocking the door and getting out of the silver vehicle. Ichimaru waved with his fingers, watching the short boy head up the steps, tiny arms firm at his sides with the bags of produce. Speaking of produce, he had a hostage. Ichimaru put the Kitsune in park, sliding out of his seat fluidly with the large green fruit that Toshiro had once again not had the arm space to carry. He was on the student's stoop in seconds, towering over him.

"Mah, Shiro-chan, ya fergot yer baby." He sneered as Toshiro whipped around, holding the screen door open with his heel. He looked from Ichimaru, to the watermelon, and back and forth quickly.

"Don't call it my baby," he put one armful of bags down in the path of the door, holding it up. He took the watermelon from Ichimaru quickly, but cautiously.

"Toshiro, who are you talking to?" The young white-haired boy went rigid, looking into his wooden home. Ichimaru ducked his head unnecessarily to peer into the house, seeing an elderly woman. No doubt his grandmother.

"No one, Obaasan." Goodness, Toshiro could be formal if he wanted. Obviously his grandmother spoke English, though perhaps broken.

"Ouch, Toshiro-kun, next time I'll keep yer watermelon." Ichimaru drawled and earned the darkest glare he could receive from such a pure looking child. He chuckled. Grandmother Hitsugaya came to the door and went to take the bag from Toshiro, though he refused to give it to her. She looked at him for a few moments, as if expectant. The conflicted look on Toshiro's face just filled Ichimaru's face with a grin.

"Obaasan, this is Ichimaru-sensei. He just helped me with the groceries."

"The Ichimaru-sensei you told me about, Toshiro?"

"O-Obaasan…"

"Pleasure to meet ya, ma'am," Ichimaru was as gentlemanly as he could muster, the smile creeping onto the wrinkled face proving that he was successful. He'd quite mastered the skill of getting on Toshiro's nerves, even by being friendly to his grandmother.

"Pleasure, Ichimaru-sensei. I apologize for Toshiro." Said boy had his face turning the color of the watermelon's flesh.

"Nah, I deal with him every day in class. He must be enjoyin' it if he talks to ya about it."

"I tell her about how you make me stay late for tutoring." Toshiro snapped. Grandmother Hitsugaya looked over at him with the same calming look only a grandmother could muster perfectly.

"Toshiro, you shouldn't be rude to your sensei." That seemed to hit a cord. Toshi-chan let out a loud sigh and took his watermelon further into the house to a countertop. "Have you thanked him for the help?"

Ichimaru's smile went up the meter to the level of The Grinch. Toshiro looked nearly _horrified_ at such a small request. He gave a few nods to the older woman and avoided looking up at his English teacher, for good reason. His grin looked quite malicious.

"Have ya? Ya shouldn't lie to your Grandma, Toshiro-kun." Ichimaru quirked, working hard to hide the giggle in his voice. Grandmother Hitsugaya looked back into the dining area and had a silent exchange with Toshiro, perhaps scolding. Toshiro didn't glare daggers at Ichimaru, he glared chainsaws and machetes. He put the bags down at the counter and returned to the entrance, keeping his eyes low to avoid looking at Ichimaru. Strange, he did that a lot. It was more reason to make him.

"Thank you for the help, Ichimaru-sensei." His student gave a short bow. Ichimaru couldn't hold back a little chuckle, ruffling Toshiro's hair before he straightened up.

"Ya don't need ta be thankin' me." Ohh, the look Toshiro gave him…Ichimaru withdrew his hand before it would be sawn off, and tossed his keys idly. "Have a nice night, Toshiro-kun, ma'am."

"Thank you, Ichimaru-sensei. Take care of Toshiro for me at school." The elderly woman playfully winked. Ichimaru couldn't stifle a hearty laugh.

"I'll take _good _care of him." He didn't even look back, waving over his shoulder as he slunk back to his car. The squeaking screen clanked shut behind him. He got into the car and drove off, turning the volume on his radio up.

_Thank you for reminding me  
>Of why I'm sick inside<br>Thank you for the venom, did  
>You think it would paralyze?<br>These scars I scratch, I tear  
>Are there under my skin<br>Where you've always been  
>Thank you for reminding me,<br>To sin with a grin_

* * *

><p>AN: Super sorry this took forever! The OCT I was in has ended with my defeat, and though I have a job, finals this week, and another contest, I need to get this done :)

I also plan to change the titles to their English versions soon, since I work hard on choosing them. I only comment because I changed the title of this one realizing it wouldn't fit in this time frame. I hope you all enjoyed and are still being patient with me 3 next chapter I'll be getting back to Ichigo, as I had planned in this chapter, but I'd rather give you one shorter weekend chapter than a super long time-jumping chapter. Enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8: Nothing comes from Nothing

A/N: I'm in the mood for more Bleach. Let's wing it.

Later: Just watched the first half of the Bount arc. God DAMN. I love Uryu and Utagawa and NOVA something fierce. I shall plot.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>_

_**Ex Nihilo Nihil Fit**_

It was Monday morning and Ichigo was biking to school. His uniform was cleaned over the long weekend, and ever since Friday night he'd spent his time at home. He hadn't even talked to Renji since that occurrence at Ulquiorra's! He shivered at the thought, crossing the parking lot of Karakura-Hueco High. He completely cut himself off from his friends for two entire days to straighten his head, even. Needless to say, Monday wasn't his favorite day of the week.

"_Gods, I never thought of a plan," _Kurosaki thought to himself. He bit his lip, getting off his bike and chaining it to the rack. _"I need to talk to Renji in English…and Grimmjow, Nnoitra and Ulquiorra will be around too." _He felt his throat tighten at thinking about the blue-haired junior, images flashing through his head. He shook his head, running fingers through rusty hair while he headed into the B-1 corridor. At least he didn't have homeroom and period one with the blue-haired Adonis. He chewed his lip at even thinking about comparing him to that. Ichigo entered B-1, trying to keep his expression as indifferent as possible, as if Friday hadn't occurred.

"Yo, Ichi!" Renji's voice shattered his resolve. The red head gave a wave from his desk. He had his Vans propped up on the chair of Ichigo's desk next to him, a smile crawling over his face. Ichigo felt himself getting a smile as he got to his desk, pushing the loose shoes off.

"Hey Renji."

"Man, you look beat. What'd you do all weekend? Ya sure didn't call me, we've talked about this!" Ichigo gave a laugh at the hurt expression Renji gave him.

"Sorry babe, I had business to attend to." He carried the joke, laughing again as Renji's face dropped and his eyebrows went up his hairline.

"Business?"

"Oh, I mean, I just spent the weekend with Yuzu and Karin." Ichigo pulled the messenger bag off his shoulders and got comfortable in his seat. What else would Renji think he meant? Regardless, he noted the urgency he'd used in his voice, like he was indeed hiding something.

"Oh, alright." Renji nodded, cracking his back over his chair, arms stretched over his head. Ichigo breathed a little sigh of relief, for why he still wasn't sure, and leaned over his desk. His eyes stayed on the doors, watching who came in. Nearing the time for the bell to ring, the short middle-school-skipping Toshiro Hitsugaya made his way through the door, his bag over one shoulder and binder under his arm. Hitsugaya kept his icy eyes on his desk and not his homeroom classmates, setting his binder down and reading from it. Ichigo shook his head a little. _"I wonder how that kid manages to be so smart and antisocial at the same time." _

As usual, the snake-like Nnoitra slithered into the room with Tesla just as the bell rang, taking 5 long steps and plopping into the small desk clumsily. He reclined in his seat, legs stretching forward and onto the bottom bars of the kid unfortunate enough to sit in front of him. Zangetsu walked into the room seconds later, shutting the door and straightening his wrinkled collar.

"Talk or somethin', I don't care." The man grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Ichigo sighed, not sure whether or not to be relieved or not. Their homeroom teacher had to be the one man that needed an "I hate Mondays" coffee mug and didn't have one.

"So what'd you and yer sisters do?" Renji turned himself around to face Ichigo once more. Ichigo also turned, trying not to show on his face that he was having difficulty thinking something up.

"Uh, just sitting around the house. Baked with Yuzu on Saturday, and played some Soccer and video games with Karin yesterday. Nothing major."

"Sheesh, you've never been a mornin' person but you're out of it today." Renji gave an overdramatic sigh, playing with a hair tie that was around his wrist.

"You can't talk 'bout bein' out of it until you got as wasted as we did, Pineapple!" Both Ichigo and Renji came together to sigh as Nnoitra-goddamn-Jiruga butted into their conversation. Jiruga also managed to pull his desk over to theirs in a comical huddle with only a few deafening squeaks. "So there we were, me an' Shiro, just four beers left between us when all'a sudden Beanpole marches in with his ol' man's Whiskey. Hooo, shit man," Nnoitra started to giggle right then, the rest of the tale not mattering.

"That was Friday?" Renji humored him.

"Saturday, actually. I still had a case left at my place so I invited Beans and he brought Shiro with. Lil' moocher. I guess Berry an' him really are alike!" He chuckled, giving Tesla a nudge with his elbow to make him agree with his discovery. Tesla just smiled and nodded, though he rolled his eyes when Nnoitra turned away. Ichigo gave a chuckle.

"Sure, except for the part where we aren't alike at all."

"Ch, yeah, but ya lay off him. Ya must'a done somethin' cuz Grimm really gave him a whippin' fer mentioning something."

"Mentioning what?"

"Hell if I know, I don't remember shit. All I know is Shiro was probably mouthin' off 'bout how ya looked alike and Grimmy didn't like it too much." Nnoitra gave a shrug, thankfully missing the gulp Ichigo did. That didn't make sense at all, what would he have done to make Grimmjow angry with Shiro? There was the can of beer incident, but that was hardly notable.

"I don't remember doin' anything either."

"Hmmph, weird." Nnoitra picked at his ear, definitely now showing any interest in the topic anyways. Ichigo rolled his eyes, not understanding how Tesla could put up with this clown. Or maybe he was in the same situation as himself.

"That guy can get mad at anything anyways." Renji grumbled, giving Ichigo a look that he hoped was assurance. Ichigo nodded, trying to hide that he was biting at his lip. _Don't worry about it, Ichigo. It isn't your problem anyways._ He still dreaded the thought of Algebra more than normal.

"Oi, Berry, gimme yer Health assignment fer me to copy."

"Fuck yourself, Jiruga." Ichigo said as he handed him the notebook.

* * *

><p>Ichigo fixed his hair like he always did after parting with Jiruga from Health class. He slinked off down the hallway towards his next class, waving like a moron while Ichigo repaired his spiky hair. The orange-haired boy shot him a glare, but it went unnoticed as the skinny Hirako slid into step next to Nnoitra. He figured that was how they remained in contact. He took the opposite path to the side stairwell, spotting the navy-haired boy as well. He remembered bumping into him and Grimmjow on the first days of class, and also seeing him at the party with some pink-haired Hueco. For a guy with such a sissy hair color, he looked terrifying when he left Ulquiorra's kitchen. His heart had already started thudding as he got to the third floor, and not from the amount of stairs. He was thankful that Grimmjow liked getting to class late and he wouldn't have to worry about walking into class with him. That wouldn't fix the fact he sat next to him.<p>

A few of the other juniors filed into the classroom before the bell with Ichigo. He took his seat near the front of the room and was relieved to see the spot next to him still empty. The bell went off, Urahara-sensei appearing from behind a cluster of block shapes on a back table.

"Morning, everyone! I didn't receive any calls over the weekend so I assume you were well behaved. Today we're gonna use these blocks to review your skills with counting sides of shapes for our graphing chapter. After that you can start on your chapter one questions, I got 'em on the board. Now get one assignment sheet per pair." He looked over at the empty desk and rolled his eyes in Ichigo's direction, playful grin on his face. He obviously knew Grimmjow's tardy habits. Ichigo still cursed the teacher for assigning another group project, even if it was as simplistic as making 3D shapes.

The students all stood and got their papers, pushing desks sounding as they paired up and emptying baggies of plastic cubes onto the desk. Ichigo remembered doing this sort of stuff in sixth grade, but he assumed Urahara would make it a bit more realistic to what he needed to teach later. Regardless, he looked over the sheet as he went back to his desk, finding it easy enough. Ichigo glanced back at the empty seat next to him and then the door before he began answering the questions himself. _Maybe he isn't in school today, _Ichigo wondered, or perhaps hoped. The first two questions on the paper were simple, making triangles and telling which value was on which axis, and Ichigo still had the sixth grade instinct to start building other things with the tiny blocks.

As he was building a fantastic pyramid instead of a rectangle, the door opened from the force of a boot. He nearly choked on his tongue, but did drop his cube to place at the top of the pyramid and destroyed the entire west side. He looked up at the door under his hair, trying to avoid making direct eye-contact with the blue-haired junior entering the room without a care in the world. Urahara said nothing, just sitting at his desk typing away on a laptop with his clogged feet propped up. Grimmjow took his seat in his desk, and upon looking around the room, dragged it over to match Ichigo's. The orange-haired sophomore risked glancing up for a second, just nodding at him. Grimmjow looked him over for a moment, taking a handful of cubes from the bag and started building random things. Ichigo quietly sighed but returned to completing the worksheet for them both.

The assignment was complete in ten minutes; in the time Grimmjow had been able to construct a cat out of flat blocks on his desk. Ichigo glanced up at him again, but Grimmjow showed no interest in communicating and continued to build. Ichigo frowned, but got an idea. He started placing the blocks on his side of the table upside down, so it was legible in his partner's direction. It took him a while to figure out what he wanted to say, but swallowed slightly to push away his nerves.

**P-A-R-T-Y…?**

Grimmjow looked over, just barely, but Ichigo caught it. He did nothing however aside from returning to his building. Ichigo frowned and rearranged his words again.

**T-A-L-K P-L-Z?**

Ichigo didn't want to sound like a desperate bitch, but that was probably the closest he'd get to being one. Firstly, he wasn't one for chat-speak and secondly, he wasn't into begging someone to talk. But he was so damn _frustrated _by the junior's lack of interest in him suddenly. Not that he wanted all that attention in the first place, but what the fuck! Grimmjow took longer to see it this time as he was properly ignoring his Algebra partner. But he did notice it and looked at Ichigo with an expectant look, ready to listen. Ichigo licked his lips, hesitating for a few moments.

"…So, are you going to explain why you're ignoring me now?"

"I ain't ignoring you."

"Bullshit. What in the actual hell are you playing at? And don't say you aren't cuz yer a shit liar." Ichigo swallowed as he realized he'd copied what they'd said Friday night. Grimmjow's bright blue eyes narrowed, intensity increasing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You should know! You gotta tell me something!"

"I'll tell ya somethin' alright," Grimmjow was about to push himself up out of his desk when Urahara's rubber basketball hit him on the side of the head.

"Kurosaki-kun, Jeager-kun, if you have unresolved business please refrain from resolving it in my classroom. Now that you're all done with that group assignment you can return to finishing the assignment on the board individually." He said to the rest of the class, still giving Ichigo a strange look. He sighed, sliding the cubes back into the baggie before Grimmjow snatched it from him to do the same, then scooted his desk back into position. Ichigo sighed but opened his notebook to begin working on his assignment, but he could hardly concentrate. _Nothing is going to happen if we don't do anything…I just want to know why he…kissed… _Ichigo's cheeks turned a light shade of pink but he kept his head low, unaware of being watched.

* * *

><p>"Oh shit, shit...!"<p>

"I told you to stay quiet," the lithe young man leaning on him breathed onto his neck, leaving a soft kiss. The same man's hand slowed down over the taller boy's groin, delicately running his fingers over the exposed shaft. The owner shivered, the action eliciting a low moan and his nails scraped at the bathroom wall tiles.

"Well maybe I'd be quieter if ya didn't drag me out of Psyche and pin me ta the wall." A piano grin stretched onto his face, his shorter kidnapper mimicking it.

"As if you'd be paying attention, Nnoi,"

The kidnapper ran his thumb over the head of his victim's dick, slowly circling it around. Nnoitra hissed, his chest pressing further into the other's. "I'm much better at teaching ya things, after all..." his second hand drew circles over Nnoitra's partially exposed chest, the shirt having been hastily pulled open. Nnoitra scoffed, grabbing that hand and putting it down lower while meeting his deep violet eyes with soft brown, another grin crossing his face.

"Suck it," Nnoitra smirked, his bathroom-stall partner bending down onto his knees before he'd even given the demand. Wiry fingers continued to stroke Nnoitra's erection slowly, before his tongue flicked over the tip and brought it into his warm mouth. Upon hearing another sound of encouragement, he leaned down further, taking half of the long appendage into his mouth and stroking the base. Nnoitra groaned once more, slipping his narrow fingers through blonde hair. "Fuck, m'gonna come,"

The blonde only seemed to purr, letting the noise travel over the shaft he'd engulfed. Nnoitra seemed to shiver, shooting a cursory glance at his fellow student at his crotch. His grip on the blonde's hair tightened, his slim hips moving forwards, craving the heat that mouth was delivering. The boy on his knees stroked quicker, giving the head of the rock-hard length several sucks before Nnoitra lost it. He came with a snakelike hiss, forcing his length back into the other's mouth and pulling back out, then thrusting back in. He came hard, and a lot. The blond swallowed twice, attentively licking the shaft clean and refitting it back into dark red boxers and tight jeans. Nnoitra was the one to buckle his belt as the other got to his feet, grinning confidently."Well, 8 minutes ain't too bad. Don't be doubting the ability of Shinji Hirako again, Nnoi-toy."

Nnoitra rolled his visible eye, running his fingers through his own hair that was lightly dampened. Shinji was a weird motherfucker alright. When school started he began mentioning that a past-time of his at his old school was sucking off other guys during his free periods, something about "corrupting" them, or some shit. Nnoitra automatically called bullshit, and the blonde didn't take too kindly to it. He hadn't expected that at the party, quite intoxicated, Shinji would've pulled him away from the group to thoroughly molest him. He'd barely had the patience to straighten himself up when he'd returned to the kitchen! But he hadn't stopped there. Hirako then "offered" Nnoitra a ride home (to Shiro's dismay), and barely got him to the apartment before he was on him again. Once it got hot, he split, remarking that it was his "punishment for not believing him". Nnoitra must have made a comment in relation to the school restrooms to have brought upon this. He honestly couldn't remember most of Saturday except for Whiskey and Shiro's prescience preventing Shinji's further advances.

Shinji had caught up with Nnoitra in the hall, commenting that his class was right across from Nnoitra's next period, which was Psychology. The teacher was scary as hell on top of being the assistant principal. Anyways, while being bored-as-fuck in class, Shinji waved at him from the tiny window next to the closed classroom door. He didn't know what made him ask to leave the room. Nnoitra Jiruga hated to be wrong, but perhaps he was just used to it. Or desperate.

Shinji waved his fingers and marched back to class, the temperature in the restroom beginning to drop, to Nnoitra's appreciation. He straightened his jeans once more before running some cool water, washing off his face and careful to mind his bandana. "Weird motherfucker." He turned the running water off just as footsteps came from outside the restroom, another person about to head inside. Nnoitra quickly gave himself a glance-over to make sure he looked presentable before heading out, nearly bumping into a familiar pale-skinned friend.

"Hey Shiro,"

"Hey." Shiro's normal obnoxiously-high pitch was missing, replaced by a lower more average one, similar to Kurosaki's, if not lower. Shiro walked past him to the stalls. Nnoitra raised his eyebrow but headed out, putting his hands into his pockets as he reentered his Psychology classroom. As he did, Aizen-sensei threw a piece of chalk at his forehead.

"Jiruga-kun, we had feared that you'd fallen in. We were about to send reinforcements." Nnoitra bit his long tongue to avoid saying something along the lines of _fuck your shit, Aizen. _"Refrain from using the restroom for that length of time again; I wouldn't want you missing out on our lesson. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir." Aizen had told them to call him sir, after all. And his tone of voice was always the same, though the air felt heavy whenever he was getting vexed. It was almost always in Nnoitra's direction. The uneasy feeling was gone as fast as it was felt and as fast as Nnoitra sat back down in the too-small seat. Aizen's lecture on parts of the brain proceeded while Nnoitra glanced back to the classroom's window next to the door.

* * *

><p>Toshiro sat down at the square, green table with the name "CARL" carved into a corner. He had a bento box in front of him, a ribbon keeping it closed. His grandmother insisted that he have home-cooking over school food, even though Hitsugaya protested to her overworking herself. He wouldn't complain though, his grandmother's food was spectacular. He slid the chopsticks out from underneath the red ribbon with green trim (watermelon patterned, cute) and subconsciously wiped the ends with his fingers. He looked back up and his icy orbs searched through the line, wondering where Hinamori had gotten. She said that her gym class was sometimes let out late and she'd end up at the end of the line, but he just couldn't see his childhood friend. He sighed but opened his bento and took an octopus-shaped sausage out with his chopsticks.<p>

"Toshiro-chan!" He looked up abruptly, searching for the voice that called his name. He looked out into the expanse of the cafeteria, then to his right towards the locker bay, and then left. Some kids from the line looked over at him with surprised expressions. As Hitsugaya wondered what their problem was, he heard another voice.

"Itadekimasu…" om. Hitsugaya looked back to his right to see _Ichimaru-GODDAMN-sensei eating his goddamn Octopus of his goddamn chopsticks! _

"**Ichimaru!**" Hitsugaya hurt his throat his voice went so much lower than it was capable. The fox faced teacher just chewed, leaning over the Carl table with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Oh, delicious! You di'nt make them, did'ja Toshiro-chan?" Hitsugaya twitched in irritation, not only because he had yet another nickname for him, but he said it in a light airy tone that he'd heard before. He thought that'd been his friend, and that freaked him out.

"That's my lunch!" Hitsugaya found his voice again, a growl still crawling into his throat and becoming noticeable when he spoke.

"An' it's so cute. Even tha' ribbon is cute, yer grandma is a sweet lady with sweeter cookin'."

"Toshiro-chan!" He whipped his head back into the direction of the voice that actually did belong to his friend. Hinamori had her backpack slung over one shoulder and a tray of food in her arms, and of course her smile over her face. She sat across from him at the table. "Hello, Ichimaru-sensei!"

"Ah Hina-chan, good to see ya'. M'glad Snowy has ya to take care of 'im." Both students turned red, one from anger and the other for a different reason.

"How do you two know each other," Toshiro glared daggers at Ichimaru, who dare disrespect his friend. It was disrespectful in his eyes at least, as most things escaped Hinamori's view.

"He teaches my English class, of course!" Toshiro wet his lips; _Of course, we're in the same grade and need that class. _He inwardly cursed himself at the silly question. Still, he glared at the ever-smiling teacher and began wiping his chopsticks furiously with his napkin.

"Git rid of them cooties of mine, Shiro-chan."

"Don't you have a class to lecture," Hitsugaya tried to withhold his spite, but it never worked out well for him.

"Fiesty, an' yeah, I do actually. Bye bye, Hina-chan, Shiro-tan. Thanks for th' lunch." He waved his long fingers and sauntered off, licking his lips in Hitsugaya's direction before going. The action was unsetting to say the least. "Oh, an' Snowy, don't forget we have tutorin' tomarra'!" He called, walking backwards through the masses of lunching students towards his classroom hidden behind the cafeteria. Hitsugaya shook his head; of course he wanted to forget about it. Ichimaru had only scheduled that extra session on Friday so Hitsugaya had time over the weekend to start working on a structure for their first paper. It wasn't difficult, since he'd done it that night, but he still hated needing to spend more time with his tutor. He hadn't said anything about the groceries in class that morning, which he was thankful for, but he figured he'd find some way to bring it into conversation. Hitsugaya ate his bento while he listened to Hinamori explain what a "glamorous morning" she had. She always said that, it was refreshing.

"Toshiro?" He looked up from his box, chewing on his rice and nori.

"Hmn?"

"You weren't listening!"

"I heard every word until you said my name. Then it left." Hinamori giggled, taking a drink of her apple juice.

"You're always spacey, Toshiro-chan. I said that the girl I sit with in Biology asked if you and I were dating!"

"That is very odd."

"Oh, don't say that, you make it sound like we aren't compatible! Lots of people can be compatible with each other and love each other, like family! I guess it just shows more since I knew you before school and everyone else didn't!"

"I'm surprised they weren't calling you a cradle-snatcher." The ends of his mouth quirked up into a grin. A horrible strike on his pride, certainly, but it made Hinamori erupt in laughter.

"Well actually…no I'm kidding! That's funny, Toshiro. You aren't that young, you're so smart, though! Smarter than me!"

"Don't say that, Hinamori-chan, you were top of your class. You told me so." Hitsugaya took another bite of his lunch and savoring the taste as it came to the last of it.

"I'm not the one skipping middle school, you're so lucky. Middle school isn't fun for anybody. Now you get to have class with people that are mature, like you!"

_Hah, mature, right. _Toshiro gave a nod, agreeing that middle school gave nearly all a painful memory for some reason or another. He couldn't call his classmates mature when they were throwing paper fringes at him, or even Nnoitra naming fruits in anyone's direction. He continued eating his lunch as Momo discussed the popular gossip she had been hearing about upperclassmen or something. Hitsugaya did want to give his friend his attention, but he didn't really care about the other students, especially if he didn't know them. He cared about Hinamori, no one else.

"But yeah, Miriko-chan and Kira-kun must have had an argument because she's been in a horrible mood all day."

"Everyone seems to be having an off day, today."

"Oh, maybe. You're good at reading people, Toshiro-chan. I don't see why you don't like making friends."

"I'm not good with people, you're mistaken."

"Sure, alright, mister modest. Come on; let's walk to the third floor together." She stood, taking her tray with. Hitsugaya closed his bento and retied the ribbon around his chopsticks. He grimaced a little, but didn't want to make Hinamori question him if he suddenly wanted to throw them away. Even if he'd just eaten off of them, he'd hold a grudge against the betraying sticks. He headed upstairs with her, parting ways at the stairwell to go to their own classes.

* * *

><p>"I mean, fudge! What the …argh, <em>fuck!" <em>Ishida was never one for swearing, but he'd already said fudge and crap too much in his rant session and it was wearing on his Home Ec classmate, Nova. Ishida had already furiously sewn through his apron pattern and completed the thing, now he was making numerous pin cushions to stab with his specialty needles. His red-haired desk mate was an excellent listener, even if he refused to talk most days. He wasn't to be confused with a long red-haired boy that sat with the senior members of the class that Uryuu never gave the time of day to remember. Nova wore his usual hoodie with fur trim, as well as a black and grey striped scarf with a red X on the ends. When he did speak he said that he was often called cold-blooded and hated any temperature that wasn't above 75 degrees. Uryuu and Nova were probably compatible for reasons that people judged first and asked questions never. They were just considered outcasts.

"Sounds as though the matter is stressing you out, Ishida, judging from your language." What could have given him that idea? Ishida sighed, stitching another pin cushion that had taken the form of a rabbit in his blind anger.

"Yeah, I'd consider it stressing. I just don't get what he meant, or why he'd skip Chemistry."

"You can't remember anything?"

"No, well, some flashes, I guess." Uryuu wished he'd have been more perceptive about his surroundings now. "There was that girl bothering us, I remember that. Then…not much, really."

"You didn't drink, did you?"

"No way, I mean, people were and it smelled bad but I wouldn't take any of it. I had some grape soda…" Nova didn't reply, cutting out his pieces of fabric for pockets. "Though…I feel like he gave me something else. I don't think I drank any of it but…he brought me stuff because I didn't want to go in the kitchen. A bunch of those weirdoes were in there hollering and drinking." Nova said nothing again, but he looked at Uryuu, having come to his own conclusion. He waited for Ishida to think of it too. "You don't think…"

"He slipped something in your drink?"

"Shoot!" He stabbed a needle into the bunny. "You weren't supposed to say what I was thinking!"

"I apologize."

"Gah…" Ishida ran his hand through his hair, then went back to straighten it out. Just because he was frazzled and sleep-deprived didn't mean he had to look like it. Nova began stitching his patterns with calm whirrs of the sewing machine. Uryuu watched him for a moment before sighing, going back to cutting strips of lace from his supply to add to the apron. How could Szayel slip something into his drink? Well, he knew _how, _but how could he have been so careless? It would explain his absent memory, and waking up in Szayel's apartment, but it sure didn't explain the number in his phone and why the fearless senior was avoiding him. His memory had failed him, and it was really causing him problems with figuring out what was going on. "Nova, what should I do?"

"You do have his number. Text him."

"And say what?"

"What else, ask what happened." Uryuu sighed, somehow doubting the honesty he'd get if he did ask. Szayel was obviously not the most trustworthy guy if this is how he handled his problems, whatever they were.

"I suppose I could try."

"Good." Nova nodded. A loud grinding sound made them look in the direction of the other red-head and his friends. A machine shook and sputtered before stopping, the black haired male in front of it pushing himself from the peddle. His bald friend erupted into laughter, and was punched in the arm.

"Hisagi! I told you to take it easy on these machines!" Matsumoto-sensei stood from her desk, her breasts nearly popping out from the sudden movement.

"Sorry, teach!"

"That's _sensei!_" the lot of boys chuckled comically, the long red-haired boy having to cover his mouth as baldy whispered something to him. Nova watched as they regrouped to appear as though they were working, which wasn't so much the case. Uryuu looked back at his friend, waiting a moment as he kept his eyes focused on them a bit longer. Nova met his eyes and moved his scarf up over his face, though he was unable to hide a blush.

"That would be my advice to you, Ishida-kun."

"Right, thanks." He quirked an eyebrow but went back to work, keeping an eye on his friend, who was keeping his eyes elsewhere.

* * *

><p>"Shit, Shuu, that thing about made your hand an oven mitt." Renji chuckled, trying to keep his voice down.<p>

"Yeah, frills an' all!" Ikkaku laughed next to him. Shuuhei gave him a hard jab in the arm.

"Hisagi! I told you to take it easy on these machines!"

"Sorry, teach!" Renji's black haired classmate smiled an award-winning smile at the teacher. Ikkaku was looking somewhere else on her, however, making the blonde woman scowl even more.

"That's _sensei!_" Hisagi chuckled, turning back to the other two. Ikkaku shook himself to get his eyes away from her chest, but got a grin.

"She said the same thin' ta me at Ulquiorra's party, man." Reni could barely contain the laughter threatening his throat. Ikkaku had a seriously not-serious thing with Matsumoto-sensei, so much so he invited her himself. He considered it a brilliant success, but Renji called it "risky and completely retarded". Shuuhei invited Yumachika, the lithe feminine male of their senior posse. He wasn't in class with them today because of some kind of appointment or whatever, but that was his loss. Renji had spent most of his time Friday with these three, considering Ichigo went off with his newer Hueco friends. There were alright, he guessed, but Ichigo didn't even seem interested in knowing the seniors. They were pretty cool, even if they were vulgar.

"Hey Shuu, Scarfy is lookin' over here." Ikkaku said, making Renji look over his shoulder. The kid down the aisle of machines with winter clothing on was indeed looking over, but once Renji and ikkaku had looked back, he faced forward and talked to the navy-haired boy by him. Renji blinked, raising an eyebrow. He hadn't even caught the other boy's name; he was the quiet geeky type if he hung out with homework boy. He looked at Shuuhei to see his response, to find him still looking over that way. He locked eyes with Renji and sat up straight, pulling the chair back up to his machine.

"Weirdo."

"Yeah really. But dude, your apron looks like cow shit now."

"Says you, numbskull." Shuuhei untangled his thread from the needle of the machine. Renji gave him a strange look, but Ikkaku started ranting about the skull comments and distracted him from wondering about Shuu's change in mood.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tuesday…<strong>_

Ichimaru placed his stick of chalk on the railing in front of his board as the bell rang. The students left the room in their usual hurry to get to their net class. He turned his back on them fluidly, using the large eraser to rid the board of his lecture. He got it all clear once the room was silent, turning back and sitting in his chair in one fluid motion. He was about to stretch when he stopped, his eyes opening in the smallest sliver to spy his star student in front of his desk. He always had that scowl on his face.

"Mah, how can I help ya', Snowy-cha—" He was interrupted from finishing by a box being thrust towards him. It was a Bento that had an ice blue ribbon tied around it, as well as a pair of chopsticks that looked quite new. Ichimaru looked at it before up at the holder, their crystal eyes meeting for a moment.

"Grandmother said that you can have this." He said, forcing it his way again. Ichimaru didn't hesitate to take it from him, setting it on his desk. His grin wavered and a normal smile appeared for the moment.

"Ah, she's indeed a kind woman. Thank ya', Toshi-chan. You still ain't getting' out o' tutorin' today."

"I-don't think this was some sort of bribe, it was completely her idea, so that you'd stop trying to eat my food!" Toshiro held his precious binder tighter and stormed off, Gin relishing in the flustered expression Toshiro was now wearing. He left the classroom quickly, but he'd be back in a few hours. Ichimaru looked back at the bento. He was a bit hungry, since dinner last night consisted of grading papers and microwave pizza. He shrugged, an early lunch wouldn't kill him after all. He had this period off and not lunch hour. He tugged the ribbon free and set the chopsticks aside, pulling the lid off.

The box was filled with octopus sausages and onigiri. He snickered a little as they appeared to be shaped like foxes with some of the inner flavoring rolled into eyes. Bless Grandmother Hitsugaya, his stomach was rumbling. He set the lid aside and reached for the chopsticks pausing as a note was taped to the inside lid of the bento.

_Ichimaru-sensei,_

_Toshiro has told me that you don't have a lunch period and purchased some unhealthy dinners for yourself at the grocery store. I apologize for getting into your business, but I hope you enjoy these more._

_Also, as Toshiro would probably not ask you, I'd like to invite you over for dinner tomorrow. It's a special day and I still feel the need to thank you for helping Toshiro._

_Enjoy,_

_Hyourin Hitsugaya_

Ichimaru read it over once more, getting a grin, he folded it up and put it into his shirt pocket. "Mah, granny Hitsugaya, you give me too much credit. I don't deserve your thanks." He took a bite of his sausage, contentment making him sag in his chair.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to accept her offer.

* * *

><p>AN: inb4 creepy Ichimaru comments. XD

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a comment regarding the rating of this story. Don't worry, things will come back together in the next chapter, because nothing comes from nothing!


	9. Chapter 9: Ignorance of the Issue

**PLEASE READ THIS-**

**A/N: **Chapter 8 was updated, I added the omitted part! It's only like, 2-3 paragraphs, so if you don't read it that's cool. But if you were curious, that was my first real M-rated scene. seems pretty over that DELETE EVERYTHANG RAWR phase, so I'm cool.

I know I'm shit with updating, but I've literally been saving up money from working and doing art for people to pay for this trip. I'm studying abroad in Italy, so there's a major change in things. I just really feel like writing right now. I want to change to an art major, so writing really is a side hobby to me again.

So yeah, I suck, you hate me. Yup D: But here, this is all the stuff I thought up just like, an hour ago. We'll see how long it actually takes for me to write it all down.

**Thanks for reading this-**

**Please enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>_

_**Ignoratio elenchi**_

"Calm yer tits, captain. You're blasting off to Butthurt Four in the Asshole galaxy." Grimmjow couldn't stop a roar of a laugh coming from his mouth. This is why he kept Nnoitra around. The black-haired young man's teeth began to show in his grin, taking pride in making his friend laugh. Grimmjow calmed himself shortly, having his glittering canines showing for a moment before his grin turned back upside down.

"Don't tell me to calm my tits."

"Wheooo, we have lift-off." Grimmjow shook his head, tearing open the second mini-milk he'd gotten for lunch. He'd downed the first before even making it through the line he was so distraught. Grimmjow, Distraught! He thought about skipping school this morning, but took to being late instead. He needed that extra hour of sleep, but he sure didn't get it. Kurosaki's bright orange hair and brilliant caramel eyes followed him behind his eyelids all weekend. He couldn't bear to be in his presence in reality so soon. It was embarrassing how deep under his skin the ginger had gotten. How fucking retarded was it that he'd dreamt about him, much less letting his dominant nature take hold on the lithe man in a pantry. He nearly had the urge bubbling inside him in Algebra, watching him bite his lower lip, remembering how red it had become after they— _Fuck, _he wasn't even that turned on by guys. He didn't have anything against them or anything, but he hadn't gotten hooked on one before.

Shit. _Hooked. _Like a fish on a line.

"Earth to Dickrocket, _krsht_, Earth to Dickrocket."

"Dammit Nnoi, I'm tryin' to think."

"Houston, we've lost him." Grimmjow snorted again.

"Eat your lunch, before the mother ship is on your ass."

"Shit, someone seriously pissed in your coffee! What the hell do you want to think about so damn bad?" Nnoitra sat forward in his chair, his sharp elbows taking up his entire half of the square table. Grimmjow rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his sub sandwich and chewing, avoiding giving a response. He was doing that a lot today. "Fine, don't tell me…psyche! I'll break into your house with food and make you talk. Guy talk or some girly shit. It's a bromance, that's what Shinji says."

"Huh, you're talkin' to Beans a lot lately," Grimmjow quirked a fierce, blue eyebrow. Nnoitra was suddenly interested in a different topic.

"Was just sayin'. You are free after school yeah? Or didja wanna skip. Cuz I'll stalk ya til ya tell me." Grimmjow rolled his eyes. Though he did remember Freshman year when Grimmjow wouldn't tell him that Ichimaru was the one to rat out on the party. Nnoitra followed him for an entire day and a half—meaning he just made himself at home in Grimmjow's space and parent's house. At least they were used to Nnoitra and Grimmjow doing their thing in their home. Now they could just hang in Grimmjow's apartment without having to deal with his parents' working.

"Hm, skippin' probably won't go over too well. I went ta' gym late and Blondie bout ripped me a new one."

"Why'd ya go late, don'tcha got a third period?"

"Yeah." Grimmjow looked into his sandwich. Funny, he didn't know Ham would be a shade of orange. Shit, he hated that color now.

"Yeah? Well, ain't ya talkative." Nnoitra picked his tray up, his long fingers practically able to wrap around the entire thing. "If ya ditch me today, I will tear you a new one. See ya later." Nnoitra huffed, his high-pitched obnoxious tone lower than normal. He was bothered, obviously. Grimmjow told him everything, and now all of a sudden, he just couldn't bring himself to talk about…

"_Fuck," _he grumbled, crushing the small milk carton and standing from his seat as well. He really didn't want to talk to Nnoitra about whatever-the-hell he was going through. Did kissing Berry make him gay? What the hell had he been thinking?

_He made sure his jeans were zipped up once more, for good measure. Rule number one of drinking: Go to the bathroom first. Grimmjow washed up and headed down the dim, hardwood-floor hallway leading back into the kitchen. Ulquiorra's house was massive, but he'd learned the layout after several of his get-togethers. _

"_Shut up and pick, Berry." Nnoitra's voice carried in the kitchen of Ulquiorra's. Grimmjow raised an eyebrow, curious. Sure, Grimmjow only came to see if the freshman could hold their liquor, but he didn't think Nnoitra would get on that bitch Kurosaki's case so quickly. He looked like a lightweight. He was probably courting him around the bar giving him the "specials of the day". Budweiser, Vodka, Tequila, __and an assortment of mixed drinks. He'd seen him do it to so many others before._

_"C'mon Ichi, all in good fun. I'll make it worth yer while if ya pick me." Was that Shinji? He didn't even know when that pothead decided to be buddying up with Ichigo, but what did he mean by that? He stepped into the better-lit kitchen, spying Shinji, eerily close to a mass of orange hair, arm around his shoulders. Nnoitra was nearly mimicking him from the other side, but he was more looming, not leering. He did that to anybody with his height though. He saw Ichigo shiver. Shinji didn't understand personal space, obviously. He stepped over to them while Ichigo sputtered something under his breath._

"_Grimmjow…" Said man's throat got clogged. What kind of voice was that? He sounded like he got caught jacking off in his room or something. His ears turned a little pink. Shit, he had already broken another drinking rule: don't go drinking horny. _

"_Yo, Grimmy!" Shinji straightened up and gave his best smile. Grimmjow felt warm, his throat starting to hurt. He just nodded, not wanting to risk his voice. He glanced back down at Ichigo, expecting an explanation. However, Ichigo's dark brown eyes moved from his feet back to Grimmjow's eyes, and quickly left the three to talk while he opened the fridge. He looked at Nnoitra._

"_The hell were you two fags doin?" Stay calm, Grimmjow. Just act your normal self. His chest was feeling tight and it took every bit of strength not to have his voice laden with his hormones. _

"_Oh, Nnoi and me talkin' to your newest buddy. I told him ya talk a lot about him. Just havin' a chat, really." Shinji grinned, his eyelids going half-mast. He did that when he was up to something._

"_Yeah right, I heard that comment, ya horny fucker," He growled. He wasn't in the mood for Shinji to spread his bullshit around the sophomore Kurosaki. Wasn't he allowed to talk about him? They just joke around in Algebra, and Nnoitra fucks with him plenty to make an interesting story._

"_Whatcha mean?" Shinji smiled again, wagging his eyebrows a little. His light brown eyes shifted to the back of the sophomore he'd practically fondled, and back to Grimmjow. Hirako leaned forward on his toes, getting in Grimmjow's face. "I only speak tha' truth, and di'ntcha hear, he wants ya? He sure looks at ya like it too." Grimmjow's body moved faster than he could think, grabbing Shinji by the collar of his tee. Nnoitra jumped, taking a step back from Grimmjow as he clenched his other fist. Blue eyes were heated in anger; he'd teach that beanpole to worm into his business. What business? Was he getting defensive over that? Nnoitra cleared his throat suddenly, but quietly. Grimmjow glanced at his partner in crime, who led him to look across the kitchen to Ichigo, wide-eyed and curous. _

_Grimmjow set Shinji back on his feet, the boy letting out a loud sigh and fixing his collar. Kurosaki raised an eyebrow, and Grimmjow was just staring at him. Kurosaki locked eyes with him for the first time that night, stopping Grimmjow from moving. Then he looked away at a voice._

"_So, I snatched this from the old man before leaving, you drink, Berry?" _

_Grimmjow moved to the back of the kitchen and kept to himself, but listened to every word. Soon, he'd drank a can of Bud, and Kurosaki fled to the living room. Nnoitra plopped onto the stool by Grimmjow._

"_Do you think vodka would be good in Orange soda or is that too obvious." Grimmjow snorted, pulling his can down from his lips and crushing it._

"_Leave the guy alone, yeah. He said he didn't drink and got pretty pissed at ya."_

"_Ya think?"_

"_I heard."_

"_Oh, well, he can get a lil' mad, it's good for 'im. So what'd Beans say to you?" Grimmjow frowned, glancing back at Nnoitra, who seemed to be sincerely curious. He scoffed._

"_A load of shit."_

"_Huh, alright." He got back onto his feet and retrieved the 2-liter of orange soda from the fridge. While Nnoitra tried his best to be sneaky, he just looked stupid hunched over the table pouring delicate amounts of vodka into the bottle. Grimmjow looked around the room— Shiro was guzzling down drinks, Karakura seniors and a teacher laughing loudly in the corner, and more of his classmates were around the room. Strange, he usually made himself the center of party activity, but right now…he just wasn't feeling it._

_Soon Ichigo came into the kitchen, picking up the bottle of Orange soda from the counter. Sighing, Grimmjow stood. _

"_Yo Ichi," Ichigo's eyes shot over to him, the shorter boy seeming to flinch. Why the hell would he jump at that, he'd called him Ichi before, right? "I wouldn't if I were you." Ichigo's gaze went to the bottle, his brow furrowing. Shit he looked good pissed. "Nnoitra spiked it for ya."_

"_How kind of him," Ichigo set the bottle back down, glaring into its depths. Oh, so Berry is pissed. Maybe he should've stopped his moronic partner from spiking one of the only non-alcoholic drinks that Ulquiorra provided. He went around to the fridge and withdrew a small bottle of Sunkist from the back, the seal wasn't broken. "Here, so what's your problem now," He grinned when Ichigo accepted the bottle and visibly relaxed at hearing the fizz. "bitch." It left him before thinking. He called Ichigo enough girly names for the night. _

"_Thanks, but I don't have a problem."_

"_Tsk, yer such a crap liar." He just watched Ichigo throughout their argument of algebra and his lack of doing homework himself. He wasn't as relaxed anymore, and he hadn't drank his soda. "So, spill." He finally returned to the subject. Ichigo looked down at the bottle, spinning the cap a few times._

"…_drunk people piss me off."_

_Well, that got him somewhere. "Why?"_

"_That _is _none of your business." Nevermind, back to square one. He sighed, shaking his head as Ichigo drank from the bottle and proceeded no further in their talk. "Hang away from Shinji and Jiruga, then." And himself, for that matter. His stomach was flipping for who-knows-why, but he just wanted to talk to Ichigo more, to not have him upset. _

"_I'll see how the works out." Ichigo's smart mouth was seriously growing on him, he didn't know what he'd say next._

"_Good, Ulquiorra is the only person that should frown at a party." He put his hand on Ichigo's head and ruffled the bleached, spiky hair. It was soft, and went even more directions when he did. He pulled back quickly and allowed Ichigo to leave the kitchen, fixing his hair. Shit, what was he getting into. He got the can of booze Ichigo refused off the table, cracking it open. Nnoitra slid up by him with a pout on his face._

"_Ya fucked my plan up!"_

"_He woulda fucked yer face up if I hadn't. Can't have my baby boy going to the hospital already!" Grimmjow smirked, taking a drink. Nnotira rolled his eyes, leaning on the counter top, a bottle in his long fingers. It was almost empty. _

"_Sure sure, the party only gets fun when everyone gets drunk, ya know." He finished off the bottle in one gulp. _

"_Yeah, you and Shiro are usually on top of that." He took another drink of his beer. _

"_Yeah, where'd that white kid go anyways, didn't ya want him to meet Berry?" _

"_Doubt he's in the mood," he paused. "and I didn't say that." He played with the pop-top of his can. He'd had a talk with Shiro about the new group of Karakura kids. When he brought up that a certain orange-haired guy looked a lot like him, Shiro demanded all sorts of information from him whenever Grimmjow had a minute. Grimmjow didn't know much, but he knew enough to always keep him informed. In Algebra the last week, he mentioned his dad's profession as a doctor that made him attend this school, and his two younger sisters. It was all miniscule information, but to get some stories out of Ichigo proved difficult._

"_Sure, sure," _

_The thundering music stopped, being replaced by whistling. Grimmjow inwardly groaned, just feeling the shit-eating grin going onto Nnoitra's face. "Don't even start."_

"_C'mon Grimm, it's yer jam!" _

"_I don't wanna dance, ya pile." Dancing in a crowded makeshift dance floor with alcohol and a libido like his wasn't a great idea in Ulquiorra's house. The last thing he wanted was to wake up in his old man's bed._

"_Ah c'mon!" He drowned out Nnoitra's excited pleas with more sips of his beer. "Oi, Shiro!" Great, now his other partner in crime was getting involved. The albino must have replied. "I'm tryin' ta tell Grimm to show his Moves like Jagger!" He faintly heard Shiro, but just shook his head._

"_Shut the hell up," He handed Jiruga a new bottle of booze. Szayel slipped in behind them, retrieving an assortment of drinks and mixing them into the red solo cups. It was seriously freaking him out how precise the guy could be about his liquor. "Sup Pinks?"_

"_Nothing at all, Jagger." He didn't even remove that creepy smirk off his face from his response, leaving the kitchen. And almost bumping into Ichigo. Why'd he come back so fast? Time seemed to be going quickly tonight, as was his heartbeat. He heard Ichigo comment on all the members of the room, fully indulging in the drinks provided, buzzes all around._

"_Told ya you shoulda stayed out." Ichigo shrugged in response, staying by the entrance of the kitchen, near a wooden door. Probably a closet. "So who else do you talk to about me, huh?"_

_The fuck did that come from?_

"_The fuck did that come from?" Grimmjow's thoughts were about as elegant as his speech. _

"_Well, Shinji, Shiro…" Oh, that's where the albino was. What else did Shinji say to him? They were together when he and Nnoitra arrived, come to think of it. Did he say the same thing to Ichigo as he did to himself? He was going to wring his neck. _

"_Whatever." Grimmjow didn't have much else to say. He didn't talk to anyone else about him, and what the fuck did it matter? They had class together, why can't he tell some stories to his friends._

"_You're a crap liar!" Ichigo was already following him away from the entrance. He stopped in his tracks by the pantry, glaring over at the orange-haired student. No one called Grimmjow motherfucking Jeagerjaquez a liar. _

"_Why can't I talk about people, huh? Nnoirta talks about ya, your friend does, why can't I? There a law against it?" His tone grew harsher every beat. He felt like a wildcat just getting released into a field of prey, wanting to tear apart everything. Right now that was the occupants of the room, now staring. His blood was pumping, he just replied automatically to Ichigo, not even taking in account what he said. _

"_Whatever, then." Ichigo turned his back to Grimmjow, who hadn't even noticed they'd gotten closer. The tension was thick, though Grimmjow was just bristling. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and growled over his shoulder. His electric-blue eyes met grinning beige, and his arms were tugged out of his pockets and were used to throw him off balance and clatter back into the pantry. Who the fuck opened the door? His back hit a shelf and dropped a few boxes onto his head, though they tumbled onto the floor shortly. Then something much heavier dropped onto him, nearly knocking his lungs out. When he finally opened his eyes, Shinji was just waving from the doorway, and shut it. _

"_Shinji, I'm gonna tear you a new asshole!" That motherfucker was seriously gonna get it for all the shit he pulled tonight. He tried sitting up, but the position was way too awkward, and it didn't help that the weight was also trying to adjust._

"_Sorry…" Grimmjow stopped. Forget tearing Shinji a new asshole, he was gonna shove his head up there and throw him into the river. Kurosaki was now seated on his lap, and it wasn't sitting well in his stomach. It was burning, the proximity of them both. Ichigo had fixed his bright-colored hair and now it was getting static, hanging right by Grimmjow's nose. At least he showered before the party, he smelled damn good. Fuck, he really should follow his drinking rules more often. Being horny in a closet with someone on your lap isn't a good situation. He grumbled under his breath, trying to suppress how cramped and hot he was feeling in this tiny-ass closet with Campbell's scattered on the dark shelves. "Well, get off." Please, he was gonna get dizzy sitting like this for much longer. Kurosaki nodded and gripped the shelves, trying to lift himself up, in the process stepping onto his foot. "Alright, quit it!" _

"_What?" Seriously, this kid is hopeless. Not that he could blame him, not every day you end up sitting on someone else in the smallest pantry in existence. He rolled his eyes, slipping his arm around Ichigo's waist and pulled them both up, awkward as it was. For a small guy, Ichigo was pretty fit. When he finally got his balance and some room, he released him. Ichigo didn't say anything for a moment, then a few more moments. Fuck, he didn't know, did he? Grimmjow fixed his shirt and his pants, though he did the latter a bit more subtly. He looked over at hearing the rattling of the handle. "He locked it." Ichigo said without looking over at him. Grimmjow nodded, playing with a string on the end of his shirt._

_Grimmjow, fidgeting. Plenty of weird shit happening today. _

"_Sorry for talking about you." He broke the silence suddenly. They wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for that. Maybe if Shinji heard that he'd unlock the door and invite them to drinks. "Guess not everybody likes that." The door was unceasing, though. Ichigo finally turned and met his eyes for an instant, his blood pumping, then looked back to the side. _

"…_It's not a big deal." Well, if it wasn't, why'd you freak out so much? No, Grimmjow bit that thought back. He didn't want to make an enemy, oddly enough._

"_If it helps, it wasn't anything bad." _

"…_I guess it does." After a minute, Grimmjow heard the smaller male chuckle lightly under his breath…he swallowed a lump in his throat._

"_What?" his tone went to angry, to apologetic, to worried in a matter of minutes. What was this kid doing to him?_

"_This kinda reminds me of that game kids did at slumber parties, whatever it's called." Ichigo's voice was quiet, even more-so at the end. Grimmjow licked his lips as they became dry._

"_Seven minutes of heaven."_

"_Yeah, that one." Still in that quiet voice. It made Ichigo seem way smaller than he was, though already smaller than Grimmjow. The space was quiet again, seconds ticking by like hours. Was that some kind of hint? Seven minutes of heaven his ass, this was a lot longer. What was he supposed to do? Shinji wasn't letting them out, and the space was just getting hotter, and both who occupied it. Ichigo's breathing in front of him was becoming more audible as the seconds passed. It really wasn't helping Grimmjow's situation. His orange-haired classmate was getting too far under his skin today, no, all the time. He hated his smartass comments. He hated how he called him a moron in class. He hated trying to outrun him in gym class when he participated. He hated how his hair was a beautiful red and smelled like strawberries. And he hated how fond he was of the sophomore._

That was when it happened. He grabbed the underclassman, delighted in finding he tasted as good as he smelled. Grimmjow's skin prickled, remembering the heat that surrounded them in that pantry, how he wanted his hands _everywhere. _This was fucked up. He wasn't gay, not a chance. He hadn't even drank that much, just a couple of beers! Grimmjow ran a large hand through his bright blue hair as the bell rang. Now he was late for class. Maybe if Nnoitra couldn't help him, he could let off some steam on the skinny fucker.

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><p>Uryuu rapidly skirted his pencil across the notebook page, taking down the final notes of Psychology class just before the bell. He finished his bullet point and put his notebook into his bag as swiftly as he could. He felt…odd. After talking to Nova that morning all he could think about was the upperclassman that had mysteriously gone missing. The bell rang, releasing all the students from school as 7th period had finally passed. He got up from his desk, waiting for the wild animals to shove through the door to salvation. The secretive red-haired young man's words were echoing in his head at any moment he wasn't transcribing his notes: "Text him".<p>

Truth be told, Ishida wasn't a fan of technology. He had a simple phone with limited texting and unlimited calling, but he never called anyone. His father made him take it with him constantly anyways, not that Uryuu ever went out someplace where he'd need to call. Or out at all. He shook his head free of the thought again, pushing his glasses up his nose. Text him. Not here. He wandered down the busy halls. The Psychology room was on the first floor towards the back of the school with many doors. One lead out into the fields used for football, baseball, and other recreations, like horseshoes. Another door went straight into the center of the teacher's parking lot. The last one Ishida personally preferred— A twisting, clean-and-empty hallway dedicated to music classes. Several rooms were left empty for practices, a couple with a piano inside them to cancel out the sound. Back towards the exit door was the smallest of these rooms: white walls, blue carpet, and 56 square feet of space. This was Ishida's haven.

He shut the door behind him quietly, flicked on the light switch. It blinked a few times, the bulb nearing the end of its days, but persisted in illuminating the small space. Uryuu went to the back wall, lowering himself against it and retrieving the notebooks from his bag. He'd never be able to focus on his homework at home, and his father wasn't even there until late at night. He wouldn't be missed.

Text him. Uryuu shook his head again, scanning his notes. He didn't even comprehend what his eyes were looking through as Nova's voice persisted in his head. It was strange hearing Nova talk that much, even in his head. His phone felt like a brick in his back pocket, purposefully making itself known. He hesitantly pulled it out of his back pocket, flipping it open and holding his breath.

One new message.

Holy shit, that's the only message ever. That's what his phone should have said, the smartass piece of electronics. The screen dulled in disappointment. Ishida hit the center button, blinking as the screen was brought back to life and opened the message.

FROM: Szayel A. Grantz

Send me the assignment from Kurotsuchi's class today.

_S.G._

Holy crap, it's him. And all he wanted was his homework! Ishida grumbled, taking his notebook and retrieving the problem numbers from the book due Wednesday. He looked at the screen, pressing New message. Now to figure out how to use T9.

It took a while to understand how to switch between numbers and letters, but he'd finally gotten something.

TO: Szayel A. Grantz

Chapters 4 and 5. All the questions at the end of them.

He stared at the screen. Should he say anything else? Is it prying to ask where he was, or worse yet, ask about the party. He quickly tapped out an additional sentence so he wouldn't have to dwell on it too much.

Were you sick?

He hit send and leaned further against the wall, smacking his head on it. He grumbled a little but kept the phone in his hand as he stated working on the same assignment. It was easy, since he'd written pretty much everything Kurotsuchi had said to keep his mind off of who wasn't at his side. His phone went off at the third section of chapter four.

FROM: Szayel A. Grantz

Thank you. No.

_S.G._

Well, pink and cryptic is sure into his technology too. Ishida shook his head. He was already typing a response without a second thought.

TO: Szayel A. Grantz

Okay.

He began his reading. He hadn't even made it to the middle of section four before he received another reply.

FROM: Szayel A. Grantz

I do not appreciate one-word texts, Ishida-kun.

_S.G._

TO: Szayel A. Grantz

I do not appreciate being left in the dark.

Oh fudge. He'd replied so quickly. Maybe that's why people liked T9, type first, think later. He set the phone down across from him, just staring at it in horror. He was texting him, and it wasn't about homework anymore. He fumbled for his book and put his nose into the pages, reading it thoroughly. Don't think about the phone. Don't think about the phone. He felt like a texting addict and he'd only sent three texts. He started to answer the six questions at the end of the chapter when the floor rumbled. Oh no. He glanced over at his phone, the backlight lit up as it indicated a response. He didn't even want to pick it up, but he couldn't take his eyes off the screen, even when it dimmed. He carefully flipped the screen open quietly, as if someone could hear it.

FROM: Szayel A. Grantz

Ishida-kun,

If you dislike it so much, turn on the light.

You have my address.

_S.G._

_Oh…fuck. _If that wasn't an invitation he wasn't sure what was. What was he going to do now?

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><p>Ichigo stretched over the back of his large-wooden chair in front of the flat countertops in the art room. He'd always enjoyed doodling in class, so why not use his elective on Art? Sixth period was his relaxing time, and on normal circumstances, he'd want to do his homework and get it over with. But he had seriously taken a liking to the class and its teacher, Starrk.<p>

Starrk Coyote made it clear that he didn't care for formalities, especially since Coyote-sensei just sounded weird. He studied in America as a freelancing artist and Ichigo had no idea how he'd gotten a degree. He was chill and got along with all the students, but slept like the dead at any possible moment. He kind of reminded him of Zangetsu-sensei: Stoic, level-headed, and pretty attractive. Ichigo sighed and looked to the clock: 2:35. Class would be over in 7 minutes. He got up from his seat and put his art project back into its folder. He'd started it last week: a graphite pencil drawing of a scene from the movie "500 Days of Summer", the part where she holds her arm up to see the drawings of the cityscape. The buildings were really proving difficult to get right, but otherwise it was obviously a work in progress. Something about movies really made Ichigo imagine dramatic scenes that would be good as a still image.

Starrk was wiggling a pencil in front of his face, doing the rubber pencil trick. He sighed, dropping it to his disorderly desk as he looked up to the clock, then at Ichigo and the class. "Close enough, head on out before Nanao sees ya." The kids silently uttered "yes" under their breaths and got out of their seats, exiting class early. Ichigo smiled; Nanao was the secretary that hated when teachers let their students out early. The school didn't like people lingering in the hallways.

"See you tomorrow, Starrk."

"Later, Kurosaki." Starrk waved and stood from his chair, pulling his hat on over waving brown hair. The temperature was already starting to drop. Ichigo headed out the door, walking down the Government and Economics hall towards the back doors. He only went out those doors when Starrk let them go early, as he'd have to face Nanao's wrath if he went to the front. The way to his house was in between the two means of escape anyways. He stopped as someone else exited a classroom—government, he thought, and nearly ran into him.

"Oh, excuse me." Ichigo stepped aside.

"Ah, Kurosaki-kun! Starrk let you go again?" Ichigo looked up at his blonde teacher and nodded. Urahara had classes on the third floor, but he was everywhere in this school at any given time.

"Not too early, Urahara-sensei."

"Of course not, Nanao-chan would have him strung up by his balls. Anyways, I was actually itching to talk to you." Ichigo's eyebrows rose. Urahara, wanting an impromptu talk? His thoughts could only drift to Algebra and his more-than-irritable partner. When Ichigo didn't reply, Kisuke Urahara slung an arm over his shoulder and walked down the hall, past the smallest of the school gyms, Junrinan, and into the music hall. It was eerily silent; band was during 5th period, and thus the rooms were unused. "Hope this ain't too awkward for ya."

"Uh, no, that's fine." Ichigo was still a bit confused over his teacher's behavior—hell, the entire day's events. He entered the band room, greeted by the empty cubby-shelves meant to hold instruments, now sparsely filled. Urahara let the sound-proof doors shut with a click, and whipped out his paper fan.

"This place needs some circulation…anyways, what happened in class today?" Urahara got relatively straight to the point. Ichigo wasn't sure how to reply, tossing his eyes side-to-side and running a hand through his hair.

"What about class?"

"Well, you and Jeager were gettin' along so well, and then you about went UFC in my classroom."

"Oh…I'm not really sure, Urahara-sensei."

"Urahara is fine enough, Kurosaki. Did something happen over the weekend?" Damn Urahara and his inquisitiveness. How could he read through him like that? "You both went to that party, didn't you?"

"How did—"

"Oh, Kurosaki, Matsumoto was invited and she never stops talking. Not only that but it was Aizen's house." _Aizen's house? Does that mean…?_

"But—"

"So, you need to talk it out with him, or something. Because if you start fighting or making up in class, I'll have to report that."

"…what's that supposed to mean?" Ichigo felt his cheeks turning red. Making up…how? He hoped it wasn't what Urahara was implying.

"Oh, you know!" He patted Ichigo on the shoulder, grinning ear-to-ear with eyes hooded by his hat. "But, he has a seventh period, so you could wait around for him outside."

"Urahara—"

"I got a class to teach, have fun! Off campus anyways." He slapped Ichigo on the back once more before leaving the music room, trotting off late to his seventh period students. Ichigo stared, bewildered at where he exited, and shook his head. Did Urahara know? How could he—by all normal standards Grimmjow and Ichigo were friends having some kind of disagreement. Though Ichigo never stayed mad at someone for long…no one else questioned him! Except maybe Renji and Nnoitra…god dammit, was it that obvious?

There was only one way to find out. He shifted his bag over his shoulder and left the music room, the halls still devoid of any people. He heard footsteps of students going to class late or exiting out the side, but it didn't matter to him. He went down to the lunchroom commons area and sat at a bench. The detention counselors were walking around making sure no one was goofing around during school hours. He caught the eyes of Komamura, the large mysterious man that previously served at Karakura. He wore dark glasses and had shaggy brown hair that covered his head and broad shoulders. He was intimidating at six-foot-six-inches tall, but he had that furry bodyguard look. Ichigo broke eye contact and withdrew his Algebra notebook, appeasing the bodyguard's scrutiny.

He couldn't work on homework. He glanced up at the clock ten minutes later to see that only four had gone by. This patience was killing him. How did people wait for busses here every day like this? He turned the page of his notebook and began his doodles. Unlike his art projects, these were freely cartoonish and representative of his sister's favorite manga artist. He could never remember the name, but Karin always wanted to see Ichigo draw her favorite characters. He'd started to pick up a few techniques in the process, but he was no artist. He drew Renji—broad, grinning, and decked out in his favorite style of basketball shorts, a screen tee with a donkey on it, and a trucker hat he had in middle school with the words RED on it. His brother apparently owned it before him, so it was torn up and dirty, but fit Renji perfectly. He'd have to show him this later. The donkey was an inside joke neither of them could really remember starting.

He started drawing all the Hueco companions he'd made; Ulquiorra, Nnoitra, Shiro, he even put Shinji in with them. He saved Grimmjow for last. It took every inch of his being not to make him look like he was mentally damaged. He got his broad shoulders and firm jaw to a T. His hair on the other hand wasn't cooperating with his pencil. He left it as-is, moving instead to drawing him in the same outfit he had at the party, including those ridiculously nice jeans that fit him too well.

The bell chimed and the halls were a clamor of students. Ichigo eyed the clock sourly, going fast when he was in the middle of something, of course. He stowed away his notebooks and slung the bag over his head, heading a "thunk" next to him: Someone's foot stomping on the wooden rickety bench beside him.

"Hey Berry!"

"Jiruga…" Nnoitra leaned back and put his hands up in front of him.

"Whoa, first Grimm and now you, huh…don't sound too happy ta see me." Grimmjow? What had he done to Nnoitra. He was acting civilized, for one, and maybe offended.

"…Sorry. It's been a long day."

"Right, maybe you should've had a drink at that party. Really loosens you up for Mondays…as long as you don't do it Sunday night, anyways." Nnoitra slunk after Ichigo every step her tried to take.

"Personal experience seems to be talking."

"Ah, shut up. So what's got ya in the dumps? Or better yet, Grimm said he skipped third period. Don't he have that class with'ya?" Ichigo swallowed but shook his head, keeping his eyes forward.

"No, second period I have Algebra with him though. He came in late."

"Did Urahara chew his ass out or somethin' then?"

"You'd have to ask him I guess." Ichigo shrugged, but he knew that Urahara hadn't said a word to them after class.

"Well now that ya mention it, I'm goin' ta meet up with him right now. Cheer him up a bit, then do some interrogatin'. Wanna help?" Nnoitra grabbed him by under the arm, nearly lifting Ichigo five inches from the ground and pulled him outside.

"N-noitra-senpai that's really not a—"

"What's with the senpai shit all of a sudden? Don't be a girl, I won't make ya drink if ya really don't wanna, shit."

"Who said anything about drinking?"

"How else do you get rid of Blue's blues?" He grinned, looking carefree as ever while dragging Ichigo through the parking lot. "We can take my beater, or we'd be nuts ta' butts on Grimm's bike." Ichigo tried not to dwell on that statement.

"Maybe…talking?"

"Well it didn't work this mornin'. With a lil' Jack in him he'll be flappin' his gums in no time." He finally released Ichigo of his vice. This drew no one's attention, as apparently within the first month of school this had become a common sight. Ichigo looked slightly over his shoulder, seeing the familiar bright blue motorbike. Nnoitra was practically holding a stakeout at his co-hort's parking spot. It was slightly endearing if not completely stubborn. Kurosaki let out a breath he'd been holding. Maybe this wouldn't be so impossible, he thought. Talking is what he wanted, and with Nnoitra there it would be…no, impossible. He tried stepping away from him silently when he spotted his worst fear. Broad shoulders and a tight, square jaw, glowing blue eyes ready to incinerate his clothes off (in one way or another), and that mess of Blue hair that looked perfect in reality and impossible in art. He chewed on his bottom lip, for once feeling completely powerless in this instance, and Nnoitra was dumbly unaware that they were each other's problem.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, not too excited about this chapter as it's all re-cap for you guys. I hope it is still good for you though W I really want to write more, and it's just hard to get this moving properly while keeping times in mind. I'd love to catch up with Hitsugaya, but it's not that day yet :P so, maybe next time. I'm in a park in Rome and it's beautiful and asdfgh, I'm gonna start chapter 10 now. Please R&R!**


	10. Chapter 10: In Bloom

A/N: Starting right where we left off, without wi-fi in a park in Rome, completely writing off the cuff. Let's do this.

And by that I mean 4 or so months later.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>_

_**In Flore**_

"Hey Grimm!" Nnoitra's voice couldn't be any more annoying if he spoke with a lisp and like a chipmunk. Ichigo slid his eyes off the gum-covered pavement and locked eyes with Grimmjow under his hair. He looked damn pissed, but pretty good too.

"Hmm." He rumbled, having his keys twirling on his fingers. Nnoitra must have looked between Ichigo and Grimmjow judging by the pause, but once Ichigo looked up at him his eyes were back on Grimmjow.

"Berry's comin' and we're gonna make some bad decisions on a school night. I'll drive."

"I wouldn't trust you running a bath, let alone driving us out." Well, Ichigo had been expecting more-so along the lines of "why the fuck is the ginger here" and many more obscenities. Grimmjow put his key back into the pocket of his faded jeans. One of the knees had a tear in it. Ichigo wondered if it was put there when he bought the jeans or if he'd had an accident of some kind.

"Aw, so trustin'. C'mon, let's get. I could pick up Shin too?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow, and much to his surprise, Grimmjow did too.

"Didn't ya spend all weekend with him already? Ya said ya just wanted to…" his frigid blue eyes shot back to Ichigo's warm caramel ones, but back in an instant. "Chill at my place."

"Yeah I guess. He's cool Grimm; cooler than he used to be." Ichigo was feeling more uncomfortable now that the topic had shifted to the lean blonde. Grimmjow seemed to accept Jiruga's judgment for whatever reason.

"Fine, if ya want to that damn bad." Grimmjow grumbled under his breath. Ichigo glanced at Nnoitra, who headed back into the building like a skipping schoolgirl. Ichigo glanced back up at Grimmjow to find him already staring down at him. "…Sup?" The blue-haired man asked.

"…I'm just going home before Nnoitra abducts anyone else." Ichigo looked away from Grimmjow, adjusting the strap of his bag. He took two steps away from the bike and what must be Nnoitra's "beater" and Grimmjow stayed where he was.

"Thought you were comin' with."

"I said no, if that helps." Ichigo glared at him over his shoulder. Grimmjow frowned.

"Fine."

"Have fun sulking, happy hangover." Ichigo headed down the parking lot sidewalk with purpose. He was pissed and practically strutting to his bike and leaving rage in his size-twelve-shoe path. God damn Nnoitra Jiruga for pulling that crap on him! He just had to head out before Nnoitra returned with Shinji. That'd make even a bigger mess, if Shinji was as interrogative as he was at the party.

"Oi, Berry!" He heard Nnoitra exiting the school, but he didn't bother turning around. He made it further down the sidewalk and started undoing the combination lock of his bike. It was the last four digits of his phone number, 6143, because he made a random number in middle school and forgot it constantly. The only problem with this bike lock was that it usually took two tries and a tug to actually get it to release after damaging it. Middle school didn't treat his bike well. He entered the numbers, turned the lock a few times, and tugged on it against the metal bars of the bike rack. It released with a metallic grinding noise, and he wrapped the chain around the chassis. He was going home.

"Ooi, Berry!" Nnoitra stomped his foot, causing Grimmjow to roll his eyes. Nnoitra turned on him then, Shinji at his side. "Why do ya gotta scare them away, scary-face." Nnoitra pouting was a rare sight, but Grimmjow was too annoyed to revel in it.

"I didn't scare 'im. He didn't wanna come." Grimmjow muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. After everything that had happened already, the last thing he wanted to do was see the orange haired object of his…confusion. He was going to talk it out with Nnoitra, but the stupid twig went around inviting people to listen in! So much for the serious bro-talk he hoped for. Shinji was remaining eerily silent, just grinning like a knowing son of a bitch. This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for him.

"Well he shoulda said so. Yer shitty mood is prob'ly what made him not wanna come!"

"I doubt that." He growled and Shinji's smile widened. Nnoitra raised an eyebrow and went to speak, but Shinji slapped him on the shoulder.

"Let's just leave Grimmy to pout; we can go make bad decisions, Spoon." Nnoitra made a face that didn't suit him: surprise. His visible eye widened for just a split moment, then went back to its normal, slanted appearance. He rubbed the back of his neck, and shifted his black hair over his shoulder.

"…Well, fine. But we ain't done here, Grimmy. I'll still stalk ya!" Nnoitra went around to his car and unlocked the doors. Shinji brushed past Grimmjow, smiling over at him.

"Now ya should go make up with Ichi, don't'cha think?"

"Fuck yourself, Hirako."

"Ooh, nasty. I'm getting Nnoi off your back for ya, take advantage of it." Shinji threw another lopsided grin over his shoulder at Grimmjow, rounding Nnoitra's car and climbing in shotgun. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at him but waved to them both, going around to his bike and making damn sure Nnoitra didn't pull out of his spot too wide and make the biggest fucking mistake of his life. With one change in the gear shift and a few sputters, Nnoitra and Shinji were off to cause a ruckus, and leaving the ringleader with his bike.

_Fuck, _was he supposed to go talk to Ichigo or not? That son of a bitch was the cause of all this mess…well, other than Shinji, and Nnoitra, and Ulquiorra's damn party.

It wasn't his fault. Nope, not a damn bit.

He swung his leg over his precious bike, putting the key into the ignition. It rumbled to life and practically made Grimmjow's worries dwindle away and blow out the exhaust pipe. He purred, revving the engine and whipped out of the school bumpy-as-fuck parking lot without a care in the world aside from the speed limit.

* * *

><p>Tap tap, tappity tap tap…<p>

Navy eyes narrowed.

Clickclickclickclickclick! Ishida's thumb rapidly pressed the "go back" key on his phone. Damn it all, no response would properly put his confused point across properly! His homework was the past, and the five minutes had been spent rereading Szayel Aporro's last message.

The cursor blinked on and off a few times.

How could he make it seem like he wanted to visit Szayel? Did he want to visit him? He took a deep breath and looked back into the notebook in his lap. His eyes scanned his notes, and his fingers started to move on the keys as if he was a veteran texter.

TO: **Szayel A. Grantz**

Fine, I will bring you the notes from class today so your huge brain isn't left in the dark on this assignment.

He hit the center button and stuffed his books into his backpack and getting to his feet. No chance to back out, Uryuu. He checked the contact information, feeling his throat close up as if he had a severe allergy to something. That something being Szayel Aporro. He exited the back doors of Karakura-Hueco High, walking tall, taking a deep cleansing breath of the outdoor air. It was fresh and chill, the winter approaching quickly.

The address was simple to remember, thankfully. 1050 Lumina Road, apartment 8. He stepped off around the back of the school, walking alongside the baseball diamond towards the main intersection. He flipped through the phone again, checking for a response. It had been a whole minute after all! He didn't realize he stepped off the curb until he heard a loud rumble.

"God dammit!" he flinched and looked over. He recognized the vibrant-haired young man on an equally vibrant motorcycle a few feet ahead of him on the crosswalk. Ishida swallowed warily.

"Oh, sorry." He couldn't remember the other's name for the life of him.

"Fuckin' scared the shits outta me, soph." Oh, this guy must have recognized him from somewhere. He remembered the stairwell weeks ago, and the party that weekend. He swallowed hard, stuffing the phone into his pocket. Technology would be the death of him.

"I'm sorry, was just checking an address." He started to walk again and get out of the other man's way. The bike rumbled, the other student moving his foot forward to kick it back into motion, but stopped.

"You're that kid that Berry crashed inta. And you were at Ulquiorra's." Was that was the black-haired and short junior's name was? His memory was failing him with names. Ishida waited until he was at the side of the street before looking back. Another car approached on the street, and the blue-haired boy kicked his bike to the side of the street. Something made him want to talk, and it made Ishida uncomfortable.

"Yes. I recognized you as well." Ishida stated, keeping his voice level and uninterested. Cornflower blue eyes assessed him, and fingers drummed on the bike's handle.

"What's the address?" Ishida's navy eyes must have been assessing him because the other rolled his. "I can give you a lift, as long as you don't jump in fron'a me like that again!" Uryuu stared at the bike, aka a screaming metal deathtrap. The other seemed to finally get the grin he remembered seeing on his face during their past encounters. "If ya ain't chicken."

"…It's an apartment complex on Lumina Road. Know it?" The grin vanished on his face but he nodded, thumbing behind him.

"Get on."

Approximately eight minutes and forty-four seconds later—oh, not approximately: Ishida was counting the seconds while having his knuckles white on the side bars of the bike. He refused to hang onto this relative-stranger who's name had still failed to come back to him, but hanging onto the sides just resulted in more uncomfortable jolting back and forth. But anyways: that much time passed before the blue-haired boy pulled to the side of the street in front of the complex of 1050 Lumina Road. He set his foot down and glanced over his shoulder at Uryuu, who hastily pried his fingers off of the bike.

"Thank you…" He got his feet on solid ground. His legs felt like jell-o and his hair was in shambles. The other nodded, looking to the street before back to Uryuu.

"Can you tell him that he needs to text me?" Ishida stiffened.

"W-what?"

"Pinks. He lives here, I ain't sayin' nothing. Just tell him to text me." Ishida raised an eyebrow. He obviously had to say something if he brought it up. But he knew Szayel and him were together at the party. He nodded his head, and the blue-haired man pushed himself back into the street, thundering off down the road. Uryuu's heart began its indescribable drumbeating. If he could describe it, it could be the instruments for Stomp falling down the stairs of an eighty story hotel.

He went up four flights of stairs instead: each floor having two apartments. Reaching the fourth floor could have sent him into cardiac arrest. A door on his right had a silver seven placed onto its wooden surface. Ishida turned down the other side of the hall. It was a short hall and yet it felt like it was never ending, at least until his feet stopped at the next door. The number 8 blazing gold on its surface, he held his breath, and knocked.

"_I should have checked my phone." _Ishida immediately scolded himself. What if he had company, or wasn't home? He counted, one, two, okay he's not home. He shifted on his foot, about to shuffled back down the hall when the doorknob turned and froze him in place. Szayel opened it up, leaning on it with his forearm. Ishida held his breath again, given the apartment owner was shirtless and wearing baggy white sweatpants that hung off his hips: but he wasn't looking, no sir. Ishida swore that Szayel was doing his best not to smile, and yet that unsettling grin was still on his face.

"Ah, Ishida-kun. Astounding that you kept your word." Ishida felt his ears start to heat up. Orihime made fun of him frequently in middle school about how he begins to blush in his ears, not his cheeks. Regardless, he straightened his shoulders and narrowed his eyes.

"I can't let my lab partner or fellow chemistry associate fail a simple assignment because of his carelessness." Szayel's grin stretched, however minutely.

"Well then, associate." He stepped aside, opening the door for him. Uryuu nodded and stepped in, awkwardly. He spotted a couple pairs of shoes on the mat, and that Szayel was barefoot, so he pulled his own off. "I hope my huge brain will be able to comprehend these chapters." Szayel said as he went to the kitchenette. His pans were not sizzling with bacon this time, but he set a teapot on the stove instead.

"So do I," Ishida grumbled, but stopped when Szayel turned back to him.

"Take a seat here," Szayel pointed to the stool on the opposite side of the counter from him, specifically. Seems he enjoys his particulars. Regardless, Ishida took his backpack off and sat, setting the bag in his lap and digging through it for his chemistry notes and book. "Well, if you'd like to get straight to it then," Szayel weaved around the counter and picked his notebook up off of the side table next to his arm chair. Ishida watched him out of the corner of his eye, though averted them when Szayel was on his way back again. He hoped it wasn't too creeper-like to watch the older student's movements.

"The sooner it's done the more things that can be done tonight," Ishida shrugged, thumbing through his notebook. Szayel had come around to the other side of the counter, a delicate rose-colored eyebrow arched up, his grin replaced by a jackass-level smirk.

"More things?" He mused, his tone waggling somewhere between dangerously low and mockingly perfect. Ishida looked up over the top of his silver rims and between stray dark hairs over his eyes. His ears were getting that warm feeling again. His life was being T9 right now: type now, think later. "What sort of things do you do when you finish your assignments early, Ishida-kun?"

"Like, hobbies?" Ishida figured it was a stupid question, and it was confirmed when Szayel's grin only widened, a clear answer. "…I, uh, sew actually."

"Sewing?" Szayel seemed taken aback, lifting his chin from his open palm. "How curious."

"Curious? It's a fine hobby. What do you do for hobbies, then?" Szayel smiled and rested his arms on the counter, leaning forward more.

"Oh, I find interest in many different subjects, Ishida-kun," He flipped open his notebook in front of him. "And activities." Ishida watched him page through the notebook to find his assignment. From what he could tell, Szayel had already done the first few questions in the time they'd been texting. He did expect Szayel to be knowledgeable in the subject already, but at least he let Ishida in the door. Uryuu turned his chemistry book over towards him, as well as his notebook opened to the proper section.

"Kurotsuchi talked a lot today, but I got most of it." Ishida nodded. He did fill a good three pages with his scribbles, considering he was focusing on ignoring his missing lab mate. Szayel nodded simply, starting to read through his thick white frames. Ishida watched him for a moment, biting at his lip slightly. Awkwardness set in.

"May I—"

"Mm, you know where it is." Szayel waggled his pencil, not lifting his mustard colored eyes from the page. Ishida nodded, setting his backpack down and sliding off the stool. He went down the hall to the bathroom. He went for the sake of going, of course, but wasn't sure if it was really in his top priorities. He washed his hands and checked himself in the mirror. His hair was still a mess from the motorcycle—

Oh, he had to mention the blue haired young man. He wouldn't be surprised if Szayel had the assignment finished by the time he left the bathroom and wanted to kick him out. He fixed his hair slightly and pulled his phone out of his pocket. The bike ride made it impossible to tell that he had received a message not that long ago.

FROM: **Szayel A. Grantz**

Will you now?

I hope my large brain will be able to handle your enchanting presence, Ishida-kun.

_S.G._

He shut the phone with a click and looked at himself in the mirror. Oh god, if enchanting included flustered and quivering he got it at his doorstep. He eyed the bathroom door, as if a murderer was in his midst. The text was indeed strange but—no, he was over thinking everything. He took a deep breath, something his grandfather always told him to do to prevent his panic attacks, and exited the room. He returned to the particular stool across from Szayel, and he was writing furiously. Ishida took his seat, watching him write like it was the declaration of independence. Shortly, a whistling came from the stove behind him, and Szayel lifted his eyes instantly. They were hooded by his bangs, but his eyes looked right into Ishida. He gulped, but Szayel simply turned and took the kettle off.

"What sort of tea do you prefer, Ishida-kun?" He pointed towards a small stand on the counter with assorted tea bags. Uryuu flicked through them but pulled out a package for Twinings Earl Grey.

"I'm usually not too picky, but I used to drink Earl Grey a lot." He decided to answer, and Szayel set a teacup in front of him. He put his teabag into the cup and Szayel ripped a package of his own open. From what Ishida could see it was Mango and Lychee green tea, also from Twinings. He shuddered at the thought, though he hadn't tried Lychee himself. They both remained quiet as their tea settled, and took a sip. Szayel seemed to relax a little, though Ishida ran his thumb along the handle.

"Uh, so I talked to this guy, before getting here." Szayel glanced up at him again, curious as to how he could break the silence. "He said that he wanted you to text him."

"He? He who?" Ishida looked back into his tea.

"Honestly I've only see him, don't know his name. He has blue—"

"Grimmjow," he nodded. "He was at Ulquiorra's." Szayel looked into his tea too, avoiding Ishida's eyes when he looked up. Oh, the subject still seems touchy, because he avoids eye contact. "Did he perhaps tell you what for?"

"N-no, he just said to tell you to text him."

"How did he know you were coming here, then?"

"He almost ran me over so he gave me a ride." Ishida shrugged, relaxing as Szayel's peculiar mood seems to improve.

"I see," He sipped at his tea again, seeming to think. "Well I'll consider it," He set his teacup down and started his writing again, already far into the assignment. Ishida frowned, unsure if he should ask about this "considering" but decided against it. Instead he just sipped at his tea while he watched Szayel scrawl away at the questions. He realized he hadn't finished the last few, but that could be done later. Shortly afterwards, and a few sips of his tea later, Szayel set his pencil down. "Well then, it seems my brain was able to handle that assignment with no amount of trouble." He smirked deviously at Ishida, making him gulp the last swallow of his tea down.

"Thank goodness, then." Ishida mumbled a little. Something about that smile just turned him into a puddle.

"Tomorrow is Wednesday, am I correct to assume that we have a lab planned?" Szayel took their empty cups and set them by his sink. Uryuu nodded and was doing his best to ignore the fact he was in a half-naked man's kitchen, but it was hard with proof displayed before him. He averted his eyes and reclaimed his book and notebook and stuffed them both into his backpack.

"Yeah, he didn't say what it was on though." He slid off the stool and pulled his backpack on. Szayel's eyebrows raised a bit, of course taking that as Ishida's sign of departure.

"Ah, I doubt that lunatic would want to keep his pupils in the loop with his nefarious plans for us." Nefarious? The two must really not get along, even if this is his first year teaching to the Hueco students.

"Right…well don't blow anything up tomorrow and he shouldn't keep us in his test tube all day." It had been a while since the pair of them had gotten detention, thank heavens.

"You don't need to worry about me blowing anything up; I'd say the explosions were your fault, Ishida." Ishida swallowed and adjusted the strap on his shoulder. _Ishida. Not Ishida-kun. _It was a bit weird, especially since he'd gotten accustomed to how he would say the suffix to his name in that…sultry voice.

"W-well, that first time you knew about it and let it blow up, Szayel." He tested saying his name without it as well. Szayel's grin seemed to stretch over his features, but he crossed the room and held the door open for Ishida.

"I recall. I look forward to tomorrow, Ishida-kun." Uryuu nodded and exited the apartment, gumming at his bottom lip. The scientist confused him to no end, but perhaps he was just trying to vex him. It seemed within reason.

Either way, he began the trek home, mind flooded with scenarios of the party that weekend he neglected to get light shined on.

* * *

><p>FROM: <strong>Pinks<strong>

Now, what was so important that you needed me to contact you?

_S.G._

Grimmjow was gripping his phone a bit too tightly. It was almost 11 at night and the bastard had only just now texted him! He probably did it on purpose just to piss Grimmjow off too, the smarmy bastard. He typed out his message on his qwerty keys angrily.

TO: **Pinks**

I didn't want 2 distract u from ur fuck toy!

I need some advice.

[Grim]

He pressed send, holding his breath. Truth be told all his pacing and angrily awaiting this message bothered the crap out of him. It was a weird feeling, nervousness. He determined he couldn't talk to Nnoitra about this, at least, not yet. Shinji would be of no use, same with Shiro. And he'd be damned if he ever talked to Emo boy. Szayel was the only guy he knew that was smart enough not to tattle. He would definitely berate him, humiliate him, but he wouldn't let this conversation leave the room. He could respect that about Szayel Aporro, even if he was a scary mother fucker. His fingers danced along the sides of the phone as he eagerly waited for the screen to light up. Thankfully, he seemed to have the attention of the senior now.

FROM: **Pinks**

As flattering as that is it will be difficult to offer my services over texting.

Maybe some other time. ;)

_S.G_

"_Motherfucker," _Grimmjow frowned. He didn't wait all this time for that.

TO: **Pinks**

Winky face my dick.

I'll be at your place in ten.

[Grim]

He grabbed his hoodie and slipped it on, as well as his shoes. He tied them haphazardly and the phone on the table went off one more time.

FROM: **Pinks**

How determined!

I suppose that will be alright, you did ask with proper grammar- except for that first line.

;)

_S.G._

Grimmjow just slid the phone into his pocket and left his pad, going down to his bike. Crickets were chirping and it was brisk outside, nights getting colder with the season. Grimmjow, while he enjoyed some aspects of the winter, hated how slick it got with snow and slush and that made his bike difficult to drive. He just had to take advantage of the good driving weather.

He flew down the empty streets and arrived once more on Lumina road. He got off his bike and walked inside, knowing Szayel's place. He'd only been there once or twice in the past: once when they had a presentation to prepare for last year in Biology about frogs or some shit and for a small get-together when Shinji was back in town. That night didn't go very well in his opinion, but they didn't speak of it much. Not because it was monumentally bad, but it was not the posse's shining moment.

He got to door eight on the fourth floor and walked right in, shutting it behind him. As anticipated, Szayel was relaxing on his couch in front of the coffee table and TV with two cups of tea prepared. He was wearing yellow plaid pajama pants and no shirt, looking about ready for bed. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Most simpletons have the decency to knock." While everything in Grimmjow wanted to insult the pink-haired bastard back, he knew that it'd do him no good. Szayel was the one that would help him, and the guy demanded some respect in the form of ass-kissing as payment.

"Yeah well, sorry." So ass-kissing wasn't high on Grimmjow's list of talents. He kicked his shoes off at the door and dropped down into the armchair diagonal from the couch. Szayel's usual grin split over his face: he knew Grimmjow needed him.

"Now what was so important to bring you over here in such a huff?" Szayel picked up his cup of tea. Grimmjow stared at his but decided against it, for the moment.

"…well,"

"My, Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez, short of words!" Grimmjow's eyebrow twitched. And thus it began.

"Right." Truth be told he was right. He wasn't sure how to go about this. "I need the kind of advice I don't think I can get from Nnoitra." Szayel's expression soured to that scary one that normally crossed him on his bad days.

"I don't understand what anyone could get from that, that fool." Grimmjow rolled his eyes. Seems Szayel wasn't over that fiasco yet.

"I need advice about…" He interrupted Szayel's unpleasant thoughts. He paused, his eyes moving from different squares on the carpet, trying to choose his phrasing carefully. Szayel leaned over, of course, no pressure. "…guys." Szayel nearly guffawed.

"Guys! Surely, okay, well, they, unlike women, have a-"

"Shut up," Grimmjow growled. His face started getting that funny feeling that he hated. The feeling like he was unsure whether or not to smile or scowl. "Guys like, like…liking guys."

"Like liking, liking, liking guys?"

"Liking!" Grimmjow roared, only causing the grin to widen on the senior's face. Szayel ran his fingers over his chin, studying Grimmjow up and down for a moment, as if he was in a test tube that had a chemical reaction occurring. For all he knew he was chemically imbalanced.

"Oh, I just tease…I assume you're asking me what to do because you think you might be attracted to men? How kind that you find that I would be the best source of information."

"…Well no offense but you were blowing my best friend for several months and wouldn't let us forget it." Szayel stiffened where he sat, figners tightening around the handle of his teacup. Grimmjow prided himself in seeing the senior's face turn the slightest color of his hair.

"Ahem, well, What makes you question yourself like this? Someone in particular?" Grimmjow nodded a little, but by Szayel's examining look that meant he was supposed to spill the beans.

"Well, that party at Ulquiorra's…" He knew Szayel was there, but at the same time he refused to name names. "I got shoved into this pantry with another dude. I have classes with him and whatever and we joke around but uh…"

"Seven minutes of heaven syndrome seems to have hit you, then. I will deduce that something transpired between the two of you. Question is: who was the instigator?" Grimmjow rubbed the back of his neck but nodded: he was the instigator. It was his doing. It was his fault his head was such a mess, and why he'd been in a shitty mood. Szayel's golden eyes widened and he nodded too, still pondering.

"Well, it should be obvious! If you are that interested in this person, that would mean you're interested in men, and women, I assume, which is perfectly normal."

"What do I do then? I uh, sort of ignored talking to him about it because…"

"Because you're a sad confused kitten, yes, I got that." Szayel waved his hand and took a drink of his tea. "Do you have his number?" Grimmjow shook his head. "Well, if you say you have classes with him, you must talk to him. Not about the events that transpired, save that for when the two of you are alone or at least out of school. It will catch like wildfire if overheard."

"What do I say if I do talk to him away from school, then?" Grimmjow muttered. Szayel smiled.

"Why, you tell him that you like liking him, you fool."

"But what if he-"

"Ha! If you've been the one avoiding him and yet he reciprocated your advance, he must be interested in you." Grimmjow swallowed hard. He hadn't thought of that. Maybe that's why he kept this asshole around.

"Oh." He didn't think of much else to say. Szayel chuckled.

"Why don't you start with getting his number." Grimmjow nodded, his head reeling, but he rose to his feet.

"Thanks."

"No trouble."

"If you-"

"Bless me, I wouldn't dream of ruining your illustrious image in the mind of millions myself. I'd take much more pride in seeing you do that on your own." _Like I said, asshole. _

"Oh yeah? What about that sophomore? Would that wreck your il…ust, image in the eyes of others?" Szayel's frown returned to his face and he set his tea cup down.

"Very well, truce."

Grimmjow pulled his shoes back on, Szayel putting his dishes away while he did so. Grimmjow stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked over at him.

"So, if you know so much about this, does that mean you can smell sexual tension er some shit?" Szayel really did laugh this time.

"Yes, Grimmjow, and you absolutely _reek _of it, and microwave pizzas. Tell Spoon I don't want to see his nasty fingers over Hirako in the manner I saw him do so in the hallway."

"Wait, so they really are…"

"Oh Grimmjow, poor, blind Grimmjow." Szayel sing-songed in the most eerie manner his tone could manage. Grimmjow scowled. He didn't need his advice anymore anyways.

"Ah, fuck yerself, since you're still mad at Nnoi about doin' it wrong." He spun on a heel and left Szayel sputtering in his kitchenette, returning to his blue motorbike. He revved up the engine, took in a deep breath as the exhaust puffed out like the burden he was leaving behind. At least he'd be able to sleep with a bit of a clear conscience.


End file.
